#and i hate how uncomfortable i am being around other people but i just. am.

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

4: UNDERCOVER MISSION

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The tension between you and Bucky builds during an undercover mission.

Word count: 4.2k

Warning: ongoing miscommunications, some dirty talk, Bucky Barnes being am awkward dumbass

The mission was simple, but you didn’t want to be the one taking part. It was an undercover op where you had to integrate yourself into a community of people who were high-ranking members of a terrorist organization. It was a challenge for the other Avengers to mask their infamy. So you and Bucky were the natural choice since Bucky was now unrecognizable from his appearance as the Winter Soldier. Also, times had progressed, and S.H.I.E.L.D. technology allowed him to disguise his vibranium arm with a hologram. The first time he had put it on, a look of sadness had crossed his handsome features. He had hidden it well from the scientists and engineers, but you could see it in his eyes, the hollow haunted glaze that made you long to throw your arms around his neck and hold him until he would smile and the small crinkles around his eyes would lengthen as this steel-blue orbs sparkled. But this wasn’t your place anymore.

"Jamie! Look how amazing you look!" Priya exclaimed. 

You rolled your eyes and scowled. Who had allowed her to attend the fitting in the first place? Glancing around, you couldn’t see anyone else who seemed to object to Priya’s presence. In fact, some of the men and women seemed to be more focussed on her appearance than they were interested in the success of Bucky’s holographic arm technology. 

"Yeah, it’s gotten better." Bucky flexed his bicep and opened and closed his fist, marveling at how realistic the skin looked. "Thanks," he nodded at the project lead.

"How does it feel, Jamie?"

 Bucky shrugged. "Can't feel anything."

"It looks so realistic! Will you wear it all the time?"

You were lost in tracing the contours of Bucky’s muscular back and shoulders when Priya’s words brought you back to reality. “He doesn't need to wear it all the time,” you snapped.

“No, of course not,” Priya replied calmly, as though you were one of her small patients throwing a temper tantrum. “But sometimes James doesn't like the attention his arm draws. It makes him uncomfortable. So it would be good to have an option for him to avoid people staring.”

She was right, it would be good for Bucky to be able to wear t-shirts without being stared at, or feeling ashamed or self conscious. You despised that Bucky had to hide who he was. He was a veteran and shouldn’t have to feel the need to hide the sacrifices he had made for his country. But his past as the Winter Soldier was well known, making him a target for drawing scrutiny. You gritted your teeth, trying to formulate a counter-argument but failing. It was excruciating watching Bucky put a loving arm around her, pulling her into his side. He used to do that to you, just never so publicly.

“Thanks, Doll. It’s good to have someone looking out for me.”

The urge to punch Bucky in the face was something you did your best to push away. “Yeah, you don’t really need me here.” You slipped off the table you were perched on and turned to walk away.

"Don’t you and Bucky have to pretend to be a couple?" Priya called after you. "For this mission?"

Her questions made you stop in your tracks. Had Bucky really shared the sensitive information regarding your mission with his girlfriend?

"Yeah?" you answered, cautiously.

“Shouldn’t you hang around and see how Bucky is in a relationship then?”

“Thanks Priya, but I don’t need instructions on how to act in a relationship.” Your tone was laced with the spite you felt.

"Cricket!" Bucky looked at you, angrily. 

You hated it. It hurt that he felt these emotions towards you. But you were desperate not to lose his friendship. In a way, you hated yourself for not having the courage to tell Bucky how you felt. And you knew that if you wanted to keep your friendship with him, you would be the one who needed to stay civil. It was harder that you’d originally thought. You were a good agent, you excelled at undercover work, but when it came to Bucky, you felt like you’d lost your mind. Your emotions were a rollercoaster ride and you often felt like you couldn’t hold back your screams any longer.

“I’m sorry, I-I-”

“It’s alright, Jamie.” Priya put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, that probably sounded really patronizing. I just want James… both of you to be safe.”

You nodded, a heat rising up your neck and reddening your cheeks. She knew. The pitying look on her face told you that she knew how you felt about Bucky. It was humiliating. This would have been the perfect time for the ground to open up and swallow you. But alas, of all the times you’d been surprised by the loss of integrity beneath your feet, this was the one time where the floor remained as sturdy as ever.

“Don’t worry, Cricket and I have been partners for a long time. We’ve got this. I’m sure she’ll take good care of me.” He turned to you and smiled softly. “She always does.”

You didn’t quite know how to interpret Bucky’s use of partners, he had always called you his friend. What had changed now? You returned his smile sadly. “I'll do my best.”

Bucky took the hologram off his arm and handed it back to its creator. “I'll come by tomorrow for this. Come on, Priya,” he put a hand on her back. “I'll take you home, I need to get an early night, we leave pretty early tomorrow.”

Priya smiled at him, “Sounds great, I can say goodbye properly there.”

With a heavy heart, you watched them leave before following at a distance where you wouldn’t have to hear their chatter. Bucky had never looked so animated before and jealousy burned inside you. So you decided to head back to your quarters where you could treat yourself to a comforting dinner and fall asleep to escape the pain and anxiety of what was to come.

*

Your alarm went off at 4.30am and you groaned, rolling out of bed. There was no time to lounge around, there was a mission to complete and you always set your alarm for the last minute. A quick bracing shower woke you sufficiently enough for you to dress in a light, comfortable travel outfit and grab some coffee in the kitchen at the end of your corridor. You finished making a coffee for yourself and were pouring the leftovers into a travel mug when a slightly disheveled Bucky made an appearance.

"Thanks," he grunted, taking the mug you offered him.

"I thought you were getting an early night?" you smirked at him.

"Always a ray of sunshine, aren’t you?" he replied, sarcastically. 

"What happened? Goodbye took longer than expected?"

It was Bucky’s turn to smirk. "Actually, we ended up having to say it several times."

His words made your face fall and your eyes twitch dangerously. It was time to retreat from this conversation. "We should get going."

Bucky nodded, falling instep beside you silently. He had noticed the change in your tone.

"Cricket?"

"Is everything okay between us?"

"Yeah! Why do you ask?" Your face remained impassive, but your soul was screaming with fear.

"Things have changed so much. I guess… I was just checking."

"You don’t think we can do this?" you asked, trying to deflect from the real issue at hand. But your question held more depth than you cared to admit.

"It just feels like we’re not as … in sync as we used to be."

"And why do you think that is, Bucky?"

Bucky stopped walking. "Ever since I introduced you to Priya, you’ve built this wall between us. I don’t understand what your problem is, Cricket. She’s been nothing but nice to you."

You took a deep breath, knowing you needed to choose your words very carefully or the truth would come spilling out and the embarrassment would be unbearable. "I don’t have a problem with Priya."

"Then what is it? What is your problem?"

You tried to think of an answer, but the only words that your brain screamed at you were "I LOVE YOU!"

"I don’t know," you whimpered. You bit down on your lower lip to stop it trembling, but nothing could stop the tears building up in your eyes. You dropped your head to hide your face but not soon enough for Bucky to catch sight of the water fall from your eyes.

Bucky wrapped his arm around you, sweeping you into a much needed hug. He smelled like home. You missed his warmth, the closeness you’d had. Bucky’s sturdiness made you want to melt into him, to break down, to confess your feelings to him. But the vibration of your phone brought you back to your sad lonely reality.

"Hello?" you answered the device.

Bucky wiped a stray tear from your face with his thumb as he listened to Steve’s voice asking where you were.

"We’re coming, Steve." Bucky raised his voice so Steve would be able to hear him through the phone in your hand, before reaching over and hanging up the phone. "You gonna be okay?"

You nodded, sadly.

"I'm worried about you, you know that, right?"

"I'll be fine, Bucky. I won't fuck this up."

"Not the mission. Fuck the mission. I'm worried about you."

"I'll be fine, Buck. But thank you… for caring."

The two of you reached the hangar bay where Steve was waiting impatiently with your mission packs. He handed them to you wordlessly, analyzing your faces for signs of concern. You avoided eye contact with him, hoping he wouldn't notice your slightly reddened eyes.

"This one's important. We all need this to work."

"We got this, Cap!" You saluted him with a grin plastered across your face.

Steve rolled his eyes at you and even Bucky couldn't help but smile as you led the way to the quinjet. Bucky was going to fly the two of you to a southern Italian resort where the conference was taking place. The conference was a cover for major arms dealers and Bucky would be posing as a representative to a S.H.I.E.L.D. fabricated 'bad guy’ named Zandor.

Bucky’s cover was James Road, Zandor’s right hand man and you were playing Sabrina Road, James's wife. You had been told to expect a high end affair at a deluxe resort where the various representatives would schmooze with each other, gathering intelligence and allies. You weren't worried about your safety, not with Bucky at your side, but you didn't want your cover blown or to fail to get what you needed.

Bucky had once told you that he had never felt like a ‘James’, Bucky was the only name he had really known. It always made you wonder why he never asked Priya to call him ‘Bucky’. You wondered how he would react to you calling him James for the next few days. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" Bucky interrupted your musings.

"Hmm?" You turned to face him, hoping he wouldn’t ask too many intrusive questions. For some reason, tears seemed too close to the surface for your liking these days.

Bucky set the quinjet’s controls to autopilot and swiveled his chair to face you. "Steve gave me something before we left. One of them is for you."

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small velvet box. Inside it were a beautiful pair of matching wedding rings, made of a shiny rose gold. Bucky slipped one onto his finger and held his hand out, palm facing up. But the other ring wasn’t what he was offering. He was holding out his hand for you to take, so he could place the ring on your finger. What you wouldn’t give for that moment to be real!

"Here, hand it over." You snatched the ring unceremoniously out of the velvet box, your heart pounding. The metal was cool against your skin, and you marveled at the delicate craftsmanship. The rose gold glimmered in the soft light of the quinjet’s cabin, casting a warm glow.

Bucky’s eyes bore into yours, intense and searching. His fingers brushed against yours as he took the ring back from you. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine. For a moment, the world outside the quinjet ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, suspended in this charged atmosphere.

He held your hand gently, turning it so your palm faced down. The ring slid onto your finger smoothly, a perfect fit. He wanted nothing more than to hold on to you forever, lost in the comfort of your touch and your eyes.  You couldn’t tear your gaze away from him. His cerulean eyes held a mixture of vulnerability and determination. It was as if he was silently saying, this is real, even if it’s just for this mission.

"James," you whispered, testing out the name. It felt strange on your tongue, yet oddly right. He didn’t flinch or correct you. Instead, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin.

"Sabrina," he murmured, his lips brushing your knuckles. The intimacy of the moment stole your breath away. You wondered if he could hear your heart racing.

The quinjet hummed around you, cocooning you both in its metal embrace. Outside, the world continued to spin, but here, in this stolen instant, time stood still. You wanted to believe that this wasn’t just part of the mission—that maybe, just maybe, there was something more between you and Bucky.

But reality crashed back in. The mission, the danger, the arms dealers—they all loomed ahead. You couldn’t afford distractions. Not now.

"Thank you," you said softly, meeting his gaze. "For this."

Bucky’s smile was bittersweet. "We’ll get through this, Cricket. Just like we always do."

And with that promise hanging in the air, you both returned to your roles—the undercover couple, James and Sabrina Road. But as the quinjet soared toward Italy, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this mission held more than just secrets and lies. Perhaps, hidden beneath it all, there was a chance for something real.

The rings on your fingers seemed to whisper their own silent vows, binding you together in this dangerous dance. And for now, that was enough. 

*

Bucky landed the quinjet in a small isolated airspace that had been predetermined to be safe by S.H.I.E.L.D.. Nat had scouted the area a few days previously and ensured an SUV was waiting for you. Both of you changed into casual holiday clothing.

Bucky’s transformation was nothing short of remarkable. The once stoic and battle-worn soldier now stood before you, bathed in sunlight, a vision of rugged charm. His light blue shirt clung to his broad chest, the top buttons undone, revealing a tantalizing hint of skin and chest hair. Beige slacks hung low on his hips, tailored to perfection. The aviators perched on his nose lent an air of mystery, shielding eyes that had seen too much. He was beautiful.

And then there was you. In a pink floral print summer dress, you were a burst of color against the backdrop of wilderness. The fabric swirled around your legs as you turned, catching the sunlight like a thousand petals. Bucky’s jaw dropped, mirroring your own reaction. His gaze traced the delicate curve of your collarbone, the soft slope of your shoulders. The air crackled with unspoken tension of the last few weeks.

The change in location seemed to have freed you from the burden of your emotions. There was a thrill of anticipation that bubbled inside you. Was it excitement or anxiety? You never could be certain, but you felt it at the start of every mission. It was you and Bucky against the world and there was no one else you'd trust more with your life. Steve and Nat had brainstormed a few ideas for James and Sabrina’s relationship but they left the details down to the two of you. They had decided that the couple you were playing would be newly weds, as Nat always said, people were uncomfortable with public displays of affection. They had even gone as far as securing the honeymoon suite for your stay. 

As the bellhop ushered you and Bucky into the honeymoon suite, the room unfolded before your eyes, a symphony of silk, candlelight, and rose petals. The air hung heavy with anticipation, like a secret whispered in the dark. The bed, a grand centerpiece, stretched out like an invitation, an intimate promise.

Yet, despite the plush surroundings and the illusion of newlywed bliss, unease settled in your chest. You stole a glance at Bucky, his features were etched in sunlight and his eyes, usually steely and guarded, now held a vulnerability you hadn’t seen in a long time. Perhaps it was the flickering glints of light between the net curtains or the soft strains of music playing in the background, but this charade felt more real than you’d anticipated.

The bed loomed large, its expanse inviting yet treacherous. It was a stage, and you were the actors, playing roles scripted by someone else. You remembered the nights when Bucky’s warmth had chased away your nightmares, the way his fingers traced constellations on your skin. But this bed wasn’t meant for whispered confessions or stolen kisses, it was but a prop, a cruel reminder of what you couldn’t have.

You glanced at Bucky again, wondering if he felt the same dissonance. His jaw was clenched, and his gaze lingered on the bed. Did he remember the nights in safe houses, huddled together for warmth? Or was this just another mission, another mask to wear?

"I guess this is a bit of a waste, huh?" Bucky commented, dismissing the tension.

You forced a laugh. "Let's get this over with."

Bucky followed you out of the suite, his awareness heightened by the people milling around. As you were about to mention their presence to him, his arm slid around your shoulder. You smiled up at him, perhaps the bond between you hadn’t completely faded. In the lobby, a lounge area beckoned, its bar opening onto a sunlit terrace and pool.

"What do you think, James? Too early for a drink?" you asked.

"It’s always happy hour somewhere, baby," Bucky replied with a charming smirk.

He ordered drinks for both of you, and you settled near Nadal, your target, who was downing mimosas as if his life depended on them. He was an older Latino man who was not only handsome, but impeccably groomed. He was dressed in casual clothing, but his attire radiated power nevertheless. Bucky placed your drink in front of you, sitting close, his arm around your waist.

"Time to put on a show?" Bucky inquired.

You smirked, sliding onto his lap. "Jameeeeeeees," you whined loudly. "I thought we were on holiday. Is this why you didn’t want to take me to Hawaii? You’re always working. What about me? I have needs too, you know!"

It worked—Nadal’s attention was now squarely on you.

Bucky chuckled, locking eyes with the target. "Women!"

"Can’t live with ‘em," Nadal drawled.

"Can't fuck anything else."

You stiffened with surprise with Bucky's language. You noticed he was more reserved about using foul language, you had always chalked it up to being Steve’s influence. Now that Bucky had Nadal’s attention, they chatted amicably and you took the opportunity to make the most of your surroundings; identifying security cameras, bodyguards and escape routes. You hadn’t noticed how much you had been squirming around on Bucky’s lap, because his grip on your thighs suddenly became very tight, holding you still.

His action didn’t go unnoticed by Nadal. "Save the action for the bedroom, kids!"

Bucky slapped your ass, salaciously and you gasped. You hadn’t expected it, neither had you expected the rush of desire between your legs. "James," you whined. It was clear that your role on this mission was mostly to cast suspicion away from your partner, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t play your part well. "You promised me you wouldn’t do that in public. You know what it does to me," you pouted.

"Better not let the little lady down, Road." Nadal winked, rising from his seat. "What room are you two in?"

"Managed to bag the honeymoon suite, for this one."

"Ahh, so it’s you I lost out to?" he chuckled. "Well my husband and I will be next door. Try and keep it down, your wife seems like a screamer." With that Nadal left you and Bucky alone in the bar feeling uncomfortable in more ways than one.

"Guess we’ll have to give them a show tonight," you grumbled, dropping out of Bucky’s lap.

"Yeah," Bucky replied, but from the way he was gazing off into the distance, you weren’t totally sure he was listening.

"What is it?"

"The competition."

"Great," you mumbled. "Guess we gotta get access to the intel before they do."

"What do you think our chances are if we play it by the book?" 

"Slim, they look like they mean business. And they probably have the funds to challenge our bid."

"Should we go back to the room? Nadal is probably expecting some… noise." Bucky looked uncomfortable as he spoke.

"And we’ll be better equipped to know if they leave their room."

It didn’t take long for the two of you to saunter back to the suite, Bucky’s hands were all over you and you couldn’t help but wish that it was voluntary rather than duty. You kept up a shrill giggle to make people around you look away. Once in the room, neither of you seemed to know how to proceed. Bucky had never been forthcoming with his feelings at the best of times, often switching them off when it came to work.

"So, umm… so what now?" you asked.

"He’s probably in there right now." Bucky put his ear to the wall as you waited silently for his assessment. "Someone's moving around, don't hear any talking."

"Set up a camera so we know when they leave?" You pulled a small device out of your bag, tossing it to Bucky. "There was a plant on the table outside."

Bucky didn't need to be told twice, he was out the door and back in under 30 seconds.

"Wait!" You whispered urgently. "Slam it shut."

Bucky complied with your request, with a confused frown. His eyes went from narrowed to goggle-like as you moaned loudly.

"Ohhhh James!"

Bucky gave you a horrified look before mouthing at you across the room. "What’re you doing?"

"James, I want you!" You delivered your line with as much lust as you could muster. Smirking at him, you dropped your voice. "Giving them the show they're after."

"Oh God, you make me so wet. I love when you push me up against the wall."

You motioned wildly at Bucky, who rolled his eyes and threw himself against the wall of the neighboring room for effect.

"I've been waiting for this all day. I want you so bad. Here, feel!"

Bucky closed his eyes, a deep flush darkening his face as you looked at him expectantly.

"God, you're so wet, baby." Bucky's voice was husky. And for a moment you wondered how he sounded in bed.

Focus! You told yourself.

"Only for you, baby. I can't get enough of you touching me. I want your fingers inside me." You continued, pressing your face against the wall.  "I can't wait until I get to rip these pants off of you."

"What do you want me to do to you?" Bucky eventually found words to contribute, having turned away from you.

You loudly moaned a few more times for effect. "Come on Mr Road, my badass arms dealer husband, you can do better than that!" you goaded him in a whisper.

"Are you serious?" he muttered.

"Tell me how much you want me," you cried.

Bucky thought for a moment, before choking out. "I want you so much, baby. I want to feel myself inside you and I want to fuck you so hard. Now get on the bed." Not once as he spoke did he make direct eye contact with you. 

Was it wrong that his words had your cunt clenching uncontrollably? You fanned your face before you noticed Bucky pointing at the bed. Oh right! You flung yourself on the luxurious mattress, making sure that it rocked against the wall. "Please James, I want you inside me." Your voice was suddenly breathless.

Bucky sat down on the other side of the bed, tugging at the crotch in his pants. They seemed to be tighter than they were before. He used his legs to rock the bed.

"Fuck me, James, fuck me harder." You crawled up to the headboard rattling it enthusiastically. "Whatever you do, don't stop."

Bucky moaned. It was a good thing he was facing away from you, he thought as he pressed his palm over his growing erection.

"That feels so good, B-James. Oh my god, I'm gonna come." You squeezed your legs together, trying to control the throbbing between your legs. Bucky’s name had almost slipped past your lips, and you hoped he hadn't noticed.

"I'm going to make you come so hard." 

"JAMES! OH YES!" you screamed.

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fan fiction #my best friend's girl

[fluffyfantasticducky]

Mistakes and regrets

☆ Pairing: Loki x Reader

☆ Synopsis: Loki is a prisoner that sees his way out through pretending to date you, but when he finds true love he doesn't know how to deal with the guilt of making a very similar damage to the one that had been done to him when he was used for what originally were selfish reasons.

☆ Word Count: 10.5k, I think that's my longest fic yet, and written in the shortest time lapse, not sure what that says about my mental stability rn.

☆ Notes: As I proofread I noticed this could be interpreted as generational trauma, sort of... given I made Loki sort of mirror what Odin did to him. But I wasn't trying to be deep, I just felt like shit during the week and used this to cope. The fic might be cringy as a result, I am honestly not sure.

☆ Warnings: Depression and guilt are the focus points of this storyline. Loki starts is kinda toxic his behavior here isn't meant to be romanticized or intended to be extrapolated to real life, I just wanted to explore a narrative surrounding poor decisions and the dealing of its consequences. The reader is kinda a Mary Sue of sweetness but I just wanted to hammer in Loki feeling bad and guilty. I don't know if this is a trigger but I touch the vault scene of Loki and Odin and Odin being forgiven is also handled, Idk if that's trigger warning worthy but I know most of the fandom hates him.

“You’re not making it any for me brother.” Thor spoke through the glass.

“I want my freedom, brother.” Loki sighed, sitting down on the uncomfortable bench. “Don’t think of me as ungrateful, but as much as I appreciate not being executed, I can’t exactly call this a life.”

“Director Fury insisted, I’ve tried explaining to him that New York was a complicated situation. But he wants to be sure you are not a threat to Earth– uh, Midgard.”

“You've surely adapted well to living here” Loki rolled his eyes. “Pathetic.”

“Cooperate with me, I brother” Thor begged. “I want to help you, but I need you to help me first.”

“I’m not sure what I am expected to do from here” Loki huffed annoyed.

Thor sighed and gave his little brother a sympathetic look. Loki was frustrated, and he couldn’t blame him. He would be too if he got brainwashed, had all his anger, sense of betrayal and resentment exploited to torture an innocent planet, and still be the one to pay for said crimes… Sure he wouldn’t be all jokes and laughs.

“I’ve been negotiating a way to test your stability and get your freedom” Thor smiled hoping to cheer up his brother. And he made Loki look up. “It’d be a bit uncomfortable at first. But I know you can prove yourself. You’d have to wear cuffs or a while, but you’d be free to walk around with me and the others on trips to the city.”

“Hooray…” Loki rolled his eyes.

“Please brother, I’m trying, I just need you to be patient.” Thor spoke sadly as he made his way out. “I hate this as much as you do.”

“Do you?” Loki said. “As far as I know, you’re not the one in a crystal cell.”

“Alright, almost as much as you do.” Thor joked softly and Loki did chuckle weakly.

He agreed that Thor had been furious. But it all happened so fast.

Thor had managed to land a fatal blow on Thanos’ chest and soon Steve, Natasha, and Bruce had arrived to back him up and retrieve the Infinity gauntlet. They opened a portal to bring back Tony, Doctor Strange, and the Spider Ling… And surprisingly a weird group of space travelers.

When Thor realized they could travel to anywhere in the universe they opened a portal to rescue the Asgardian ship. There were a lot of severe wounds but surprisingly Thanos had failed, he underestimated the strength of Asgard, and most people could be saved.

“Thor!” Valkyrie screamed and rushed to hug the king.

“Valkyrie! You are alright! Thank goodness!” Thor smiled in relief and hugged his friend.

“Thor you have to come quick!” Valkyrie urged him. “It’s Loki!”

Thor’s heart sank, his heart couldn’t stand burying the only family member he had left. Thor had lost his parents… he had seen his whole planet die. But not his baby brother. Not Loki. Not again.

“Please… not now… Let’s treat the wounded ones first…” Thor spoke with a knot on his throat. “I want to focus on saving lives first.”

“Thor, you don’t get it! He’s alive!” Valkyrie scolded him. “But he’s in a critical state! We need to take him to a safe place to treat him.”

A tear streamed down the new king’s face, and he felt as if he had finally put down a enormous boulder he had been holding onto. He didn’t lose Loki.

“Take me to him!” Thor urged them.

Valkyrie took Thor to a damaged room in the ship that had been used as an improvised infirmary. In the corner laid a figure Thor knew too well being treated by healers.

“Brother!” Thor said. “Oh Gods… You’re alive…”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily thunder brain… ugh…!” Loki joked weakly as he groaned in pain. The healers begged him not to move as they tried stabilizing his condition. His neck had been nearly obliterated.

It was a miracle Loki hadn’t died and that the healers had managed to find him on time.

“We couldn’t abandon him” one of the healers spoke politely to her king. “After all, it was because of you and prince Loki that Lady Valkyrie managed to evacuate the survivors. We apologize for not finding you, my king.”

“It’s no problem at all” Thor laughed in an uncharacteristically quiet manner. He was breathless. “Thank you for saving my brother’s life.”

The lady healer let out a sheepish giggle and bowed. Loki rolled his eyes, earning a lecture from the healers that were still treating him. King or not, Thor still had that charm that seemed to make most people swoon.

The reunion was interrupted by a group of soldiers that broke in with a logo on their uniforms that made Thor’s blood boil when they pointed their weapons at Loki. SHEILD.

They picked up the stretcher where Loki was laying in and took him away to lock him up.

Apparently, the news travel fast, but SHIELD travels faster, and hearing Loki was alive was enough to mobilize and capture the injured God and lock him in a crystal prison cell in a SHIELD base. If Loki had a coin for every time that happened… he’d have two.

He couldn’t say Thor didn’t do anything about it. He could hear the thunders and enraged screams from his brother, demanding for an explanation and Loki’s immediate liberation.

“I demand my brother is released immediately!” Thor yelled.

“You should consider yourself grateful we’re allowing your witches to go and heal that world-level threat! He would be better off dead!”

“Don’t you dare speak of my brother like that! Me and all of my people would’ve died if it wasn’t for him!”

Loki wasn’t sure if he was amused or if he felt bad.

It did stroke his ego being called “Asgard’s hero” in the middle of the yelling. It shouldn’t have surprised him that Nick Fury was just as loud as Thor when angry. He couldn’t complain much. It made it much easier to hear what was going on, which was good, he was too weakened to use his magic to spy on them.

The healers tending to his neck sure seemed awkward overhearing the fight. It must have been uncomfortable to be doing your job in a high security cell. So, he tried entertaining the healers as he could. Although all he got was a lecture when his magic drained his energy, and they needed him awake to monitor him.

Soon he got better, he but wasn’t allowed to be out of his cell. It was a bit nostalgic, in some dark and twisted way. It even made him want to fix his old horned helmet, even if Thor would call him a cow for wearing it.

And when things couldn’t get worse… he met you.

“It’s lunch time” a voice said in a weirdly friendly tone before you head popped by the entrance as you balanced a tray of food on your head in an attempt to amuse Loki. He wondered if there were buffoons in Midgard, but you always tried to draw a laugh from him… Tried.

“Tough crowd, eh?”

Loki couldn’t not be baffled by the way you talked to him. Although he couldn’t decide if that was because you surely knew his reputation as Midgard’s terrorist or because you always talked in a friendly and goofy tone in a maximum-security prison in a super-secret spy agency. You also seemed to be awfully young to be here, but you couldn’t be much older than the girl Barton took as his protégée.

“What’s on the menu today?” Loki asked in a more formal tone.

“Why the hurry?” you asked, “don’t tell me you got somewhere else to be.”

“You think you are a lot funnier than you really are” Loki rolled his eyes. “And it’s not very nice to make fun of someone’s disgrace.”

“I hear you think I’m at least a little bit funny” you smiled as you kept balancing the tray of food on your head.

“Please don’t drop my food, I’d like to have at least something to eat” he rolled his eyes.

You tripped on your feet, and he saw the tray falling down, you caught it last second with your shins, and gave him a little sheepish grin.

“Alright, alright, I’m impressed” Loki groaned. “Can I eat now please? Or is having you torment me part of some attempt to break me?”

“Why are you so moody?” you asked. “More than usual, I mean.”

“I’m starving, and you humans eat way too little” Loki finally admitted. “But that is still better than nothing… Please.”

You stopped playing around and you looked at him as you got the tray into his cell.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were eating so little.” You admitted.

“I barely have energy to cast small illusions, which would serve to entertain myself.” Loki complained as he sat to eat and you sat by the table and looked at him, you didn’t seem afraid, curious at most. You watched him eat and took his dirty plates by the end.

You weirded him out.

You always did something along the same lines; you came to bring him food, teased him a little and then left when you were gone. Although this time you had asked more questions about him. And you seemed more pensive while he ate.

And later that day he got a surprise. Usually, he just saw you to deal with you while he ate. But today you returned with a brown paper bag on your hands and a backpack, you never carried personal objects with you.

“What now?” he groaned.

You said nothing but opened the door to pass him food and slid the bag inside. Loki opened his end and grabbed the bag, it was warm, and it had a strong smell inside, he reached and pulled out a weird soft cushion with a white cover.

“Bur…ger? What this?” he asked as he read the yellow letters.

“It’s food” you smiled. “Cafeteria is closed until dinner, so I thought bringing you something else might boost your mood.”

“This looks like junk” he snarled, making you laugh.

“It’s something like that.”

Loki looked inside the bag and looked at you.

“There’s no fork.”

“You eat it with your hands” you smiled and pretended to grab a burger and bite it. “Like a sandwich.”

“What’s a sandwich?” Loki asked, making you laugh again.

Loki tried to take a bit, imitating your gesture, but you stopped with a squeaky laugh.

“Unwrap it first!” you laughed. “The white thing paper is not edible.”

Usually Loki would’ve argued more. But he had been really hungry, so he agreed.

“The taste is agreeable enough.”

“Try the fries!” you said eagerly.

“These yellow sticks?” he asked pulling out one fry from the bag, and you giggle once again, he was learning you were quite easy to amuse.

“Yes, the yellow sticks, they’re potatoes with salt and soaked in hot oil to cook them” you smiled.

“That sounds unhealthy” he said, but he surely didn’t pass up the extra meal, and while he’d never admit it, but it was tasty.

“It is on the long run” you agreed. “But you don’t eat these every day. It’s more like… something you eat when you particularly crave it. Like a treat.”

“What’s on your bag?” Loki asked, a lot more agreeable now with a full stomach.

“Ah, you said you didn’t have much to do” you said and passed him bag. “It’s a portable DVD player and old movies.”

“I understood the word portable from that whole sentence” Loki said in an obvious tone.

He wasn’t new to technology, but unlike Earth, Asgard only used technology for practical purposes like travel and fighting. Never for entertainment.

“You can watch recorded over produced plays on the screen” you said adapting to what Loki might be familiar with. “Fury said you can’t have access to internet, so I thought since I don’t use this anymore it’d keep you entertained while Thor negotiates your freedom. And if you need something else, I could surely get it for you.”

Loki was trying to process it all while he followed your instructions to set up the devices you brought him. Now he’d finally give some use to the electricity plugins on his cell.

“Why are you so nice to me?” Loki asked.

“I don’t know” you shrugged. “You seem like you could use some kindness.”

“I’m a charity case?” Loki asked, not sure if he was thankful or offended.

“You wish. If I was charitable, I would’ve brought a fancy brand of fast food, and you’re a good junkyard to bring my old stuff” you snarled, making Loki laugh, for real this time.

Your cheeks flushed and were soon surrounded in a clod of silver mist. And when it disappeared you had vanished already.

Now that… Loki didn’t see coming. He had heard of your kind when he took control of some of SHIELD agents, humans with supernatural abilities. You were a mutant, and for the looks of it, one with teleportation powers. Now it made sense why someone seemingly so ordinary was in a place like this, flirting with a prisoner.

Interesting.

The next few days you kept bringing him food as usual, but two things had changed. One, the portions were bigger now, Loki now got to eat to a point where he was satisfied. Two, you joked around a lot less, in fact, you simply brought the food and stayed nearby in silence, and Loki had caught you staring at him with rosy cheeks.

So, you did fancy him… Truly interesting. And quite flattering too, he at least had to agree you were quite appealing to stare at.

“I watched one of your… Dee Bee Dees…” Loki started the conversation while he ate. “The one with the funny doctor…”

“That… doesn’t narrow it down much” you finally spoke. “Sarcastic asshole with a wounded leg?”

“He is sarcastic, but he treats patients with joy and laughter and goes against the rules. Like the pair of legs at the entrance” Loki specified. “It was a sweet story… I did feel bad for him when he lost his… you know.”

“Ah, yeah…” you said sadly.

For a few more days, the routine kept like that, you seemed a lot shyer than before and now Loki was the one pursuing your attention and with an arsenal of movies you had watched he always had a way to start conversation.

When he was sure he had properly understood your interest in him, he made his move.

While Loki wasn’t as flashy as Thor, he never had much trouble swooning anyone of his interest, with years of etiquette lessons and nourishing his mind with the most exquisite novels and books Asgard had to offer he knew how to charm anyone he desired.

And soon enough he was courting you. He recited for you the collection of the most exquisite verses he had memorized and casted his illusions of roses and butterflies for you to enjoy a romantic set up.

Soon Fury had two people demanding for his liberation. And since Loki had been in his best behavior Fury didn’t have an excuse to keep Loki locked up and while he had a tracker on his ankle and Asgardian magic bracelets capable of suppressing his magic.

You were there when they let Loki out and he made sure to hug you first. The more in love he seemed, the sooner he’d be truly free. You melted against his embrace and wrapped your arms around him in a warm hug.

Loki felt a light tug on his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time someone out of his parents and Thor been so eager and happy to hug him.

“I had been dreaming of this…” you spoke softly. “And your hugs are even cozier than I imagined.”

That felt like a dagger to his heart. Why were you so sweet?

“Alright, Bambi, if you try something your little sweetheart will let us know right away, got it?” Tony warned him.

You wrapped your arms around Loki’s bicep pressing yourself against him.

“He’s gonna be perfect” you defended him. “And if I’m wrong you can lock me up as well for helping a criminal out.”

Second dagger. What kind of idiot were you trusting him so blindly? Could you really not see he just wanted his freedom?

Loki finally had a proper room, or something like that. He would be staying in the Avengers Compound when the Helicarrier landed… until then there was a room where he, Thor, and basically everyone stayed.

Your bed the one right above Loki’s. Loki sighed. Just a few more days. Loki laid down and saw you looking down at him, peeking from your bed with big sparkling eyes.

“Yes?” Loki said in his best sweet loving tone.

“S-Sorry…” you mumbled as your cheeks got red. “I’m just really happy you’re here.”

“Aww, young love…” Kate cooed.

“SHUT UP! I’M OLDER THAN YOU!” you screeched and threw a pillow right at her face, making Loki smiled softly.

“You’re both babies…” Yelena grinned.

“Shut up, you hag!” you and Kate argued.

“You’re all babies…” Bucky corrected.

“DON’T STICK YOUR NOSE, YOU FOSSIL!” the three of you argued.

“I’m… not gonna join this argument being 1,500 years old” Thor laughed and soon eased the mood in all laughter again.

Meanwhile Loki wouldn’t stop thinking what you said to him. “I’m happy you’re here.” Third stab… How could you be so happy and attached to him so easily and quickly?

The next few days he had resigned to adapt to train with you. He had been a warrior all his life, but being a soldier was too boring for him. It was a lot of training, gym workouts, more training, and meetings. He saw you nodding off during the latter. Where did you pull the energy to play and joke around with him when you went to bring food to him while he had been locked up?

You yawned and rested against his shoulder as you dozed off during lunch once. You were so warm and trusted him more than he deserved. You seemed awfully comfortable around him.

Every spare moment you had was dedicated to him, you were awfully cuddly and touchy. Loki wasn’t used to this in the slightest. At first playing along seemed impossible. But your kisses were so gentle and tender, more often than not he found his eyes fluttering close and his hands wrapping around your waist in a loving way. Even sharing a room with a lot of people seemed more fun if he got to study your reactions.

“Take that!” you screamed as you and Kate smacked each other with pillows, but when a stray pillow hit Natasha in the back of the head, it was war.

Everyone was throwing and hitting each other with pillows until someone pushed you to Loki’s arms who had stayed out of the war as just a bystander. No one seemed to be paying much attention to him, but now you were.

Your face was beet red, and you were blabbering apologies if you had hurt him, (which, you hadn’t). But Loki simply smiled and grabbed your sides and started squeezing them, causing you to squeal and burst out laughing.

Oh, of course you were ticklish, he should’ve known. Hel, you irradiated this aura that just screamed “tickle me!” And as the God of Mischief, he was drawn to ticklish little things such as yourself, to make sure he could exploit every ticklish little inch of your giggly body. It had always been a pretty harmless way to ease his need to cause mayhem.

Soon the entire room was in fits of laughter since Loki had unintentionally inspired a tickle war.

“H-Hohohohoney! Pleahahahahase!” you begged Loki, “thahahahahat tickles!”

“So? I hope it doesn’t bother you, my dear” Loki purred in your ear as his fingers traveled up and down your ribs, causing you to screech. “I think I’d like to play with my pretty little toy some more…”

“Nohohohoho! Please! Hehehehehe! S-Stop it!” you giggled until you had proofed to reappear at the top bunk bed, right by the time someone else had surrendered and called truce.

Thor. His stomach was sore from laughing and he needed a break. But the big Asgardian was confident enough to not be affected by being the one to surrender in such harmless play fight.

“I’m nostalgic” Thor laughed. “Reminds me of the sleep overs with Fandral, Volstagg, Hogun and Sif.”

“I wouldn’t know, I was never invited.” Loki said.

“WHAT?!” you gasped and threw a pillow at Thor’s head in Loki’s defense. “JERK! TO YOUR OWN BROTHER!”

“What do you mean?” Thor asked. “You rejected us every time.”

“What are you talking about? You never invited me, brother” Loki explained. “By the time I had found out, you were all locked in your chambers.”

“Sif and the guys always said you said no” Thor said. “That’s why I always made smaller sleepovers with just you and me. I thought you hated big groups.”

Loki never thought Thor had been clueless, if anything he thought it had been him who rejected him, it never occurred to him it was the rest that orchestrated Loki’s exclusion. It made sense in retrospect, they were more Thor’s friends, not Loki’s.

“I enjoy time to myself,” Loki agreed. “But I’ve never been against big events. I always thought it was you who didn’t want me near your friends…”

“Of course not, brother…”

“Don’t feel bad, Loki” Yelena said in a tone that eased the mood. “Nat used to have sleepover with friends and ban me from her room the whole night. But we’re sisters, adopted or not.”

“I said I was sorry, and I was 11 you resentful crybaby!” Natasha argued with a laugh.

You noticed that had hit a sensitive spot-on Loki and went to sit behind Loki to give him a hug from behind. And it was unexpectedly comforting, he sighed as you kissed his cheek. Growing more and more used to your doting affection, you were also rather good to read his mood by now.

It just made him feel more guilty, so he tried changing the subject.

“You poof around when tickled, hm?” Loki chuckled. “Noted.”

“Not just when I’m tickled, when I get worked up by almost anything…” you explained. “I can’t always control it.”

“I see… so, I get you all worked up…” Loki flirted, making you jolt and squeak with a red face. “Heh… I’m flattered.”

“What about you?” you asked when you calmed down, resting your chin on his shoulder. “Does something like that happen to you?”

“Mmm… my magic is also very tied to my feelings is mostly surges of magic when I’m pissed off.” Loki shrugged. “In a way, the source of my magic abilities come from my control of how I feel. Which is why Thor could never learn sorcery… he couldn’t ever keep calm and focus enough.”

It felt a bit of a cheap answer, his guilt told him you were always vulnerable with him. There was another thing…

Alright, now that no one was paying attention to you two.

“When I was little, I used to have a lot of nightmares, and my mother stayed with me and taught me this spell… it allows you to invite someone else to your dreams, to put it simply. She taught me that spell to help me with the bad dreams… And sometimes I still cast it involuntarily while I sleep. It’s… what’s the word? Automatic, at this point.”

“You haven’t used it since we met” you pointed out.

“There’s these preventing that” Loki wiggled the magic cuffs on his wrists, and you shrank sheepishly. “Maybe one day I’ll have you sleep visiting… who knows…”

You smiled too eagerly at the idea… it was painful to see the adoration in your eyes.

The next night you were chatting happily, you laid on the floor with your feet hanging on Loki’s bed. Surprisingly he didn’t mind too much, he found himself much more engaged on the conversation. He simply rested his hand on your shin, caressing it with his thumb.

But at some point during the chat his hand brushed by your ankle, something that should’ve caught his attention way sooner. A location tracker like his. He brushed his fingers along the band, and you jolted, quickly making a bad excuse before rushing out. A terrible liar dating the god of lies. How ironic.

“I didn’t know… I thought I was the only one with one of these…” Loki pointed to his tracker.

“All mutants and non-SHIELD affiliated have one” Tony explained with a yawn. “Basically, if you have superpowers, you have two options, be an agent or an avenger.”

“Or locked up” Loki concluded, and the way no one answered, confirming his suspicion.

“You’re gonna be joining us, right, brother?” Thor smiled.

“Do I have a choice?”

Loki chuckled, he had been thinking about this prior to this information, the fear of actually losing his brother when Thor was ready to leave him forever in Sakaar had been too great.

But what about you? You didn’t strike him the superhero style, a were a fragile and sensitive little thing, and he couldn’t picture you in the battlefield, but being a soldier was clearly taking a huge toll on you. You seemed perpetually exhausted living like this.

“Has my darling decided yet?” Loki asked, he didn’t plan on the pet names, but it felt weirdly natural as it rolled off his tongue. It felt right.

“Not before meeting you, we had tried, but I’d say with you two together… things have changed for the better.” Steve assured him. “It’s a relief though, you two would be great assets in the future, and the life at the compound is bit freer and more independent.”

For some reason, Loki smiled at the sound of that.

“It’s gonna be for the best” Bruce smiled. “Fury can be quite severe, and the soldier life isn’t for everyone…”

Loki couldn’t see you long term here, you’d be overworking yourself for a lifestyle too demanding and that you didn’t even like. It would be for the best to be an Avenger… at least that’d give you some more freedom.

By then, the mood had died down and everyone went to bed, turning off the lights way before you arrived. A few more minutes passed… and nothing. Loki considered going to find you when you opened the door, guiding your way with your phone’s flashlight. You had a messy damp ponytail, and baggy pajamas. You arrived and sat by Loki’s bed and immediately collapsed right beside him, invading his bed. He was ready to climb and use yours when you he felt a tug on his shirt.

“Let me stay with you…” you mumbled with your eyes closed, it seemed you still had some consciousness.

Loki nodded and laid down beside you, wrapping his arm over you, and tucking you under the bedsheets. He had to keep appearances. Yeah… Of course.

He studied you for a while. Your hair was soft, and it smelled like wild berries, shampoo he had started using as well because it smelled so nice. Your skin was soft and smooth, it was addictive to trace his fingers along your body. He traced circles along your side.

“Nooo… thahahat tickles…” you giggled and shifted in your half-asleep state, making something stir within Loki. “You can tickle me all you want in the morning, okay baby…?”

“Ohoho! Is that so?” Loki chuckled. “That’s dangerous thing to offer to the God of Mischief don’t you think?”

“’s okay… I trust you…” you yawned snuggling against his chest.

“Y-You do…?”

“You’d never do anything to hurt me…” you assured him, even with your brain fighting with all it’s might to not succumb to exhaustion.

Once his eyes adapted to the darkness, he stared at your face. Your features were gentle, with a pureness that only a heart that hadn’t been corrupted with cruelness and malice would have. It made him feel weak.

“I love you” you mumbled, kissing his lips before finally falling asleep with the most peaceful smile he had ever seen on anyone that was this close to him.

“I… I love you too…” he whispered and kissed the top of your head.

Now Loki genuinely wanted to stab himself through the chest, he deserved nothing less.

The next morning was the last time he’d be in the Helicarrier for a long time if he could help it. Both of you got the trackers removed and he was officially free. The magic cuffs were taken off of Loki and he immediately summoned a huge illusion that had a radius of a few kilometers as he stretched and showed off.

A huge double rainbow, oh how he had missed using his magic like this. He noticed your eyes sparkling in admiration.

Thor helped him unpack and you two were assigned neighbor bedrooms so the lovey dovey couple could stay close. You seemed ecstatic, you set your room and invited him to see it.

It was very much what he expected from you. Cozy and cute, just being inside made him want to lay down on your bed and sleep. And of course you had a pile of stuffed animals. He laid back on your bed, sinking in the mattress and fluffy covers.

Adorable.

“Honey bunny, I’m gonna go to the city alone today… don’t follow me” you warned him and proofed away before reappearing for a second. “And don’t snoop around my stuff! Love ya!”

And you disappeared in a gust of silvery white mist. Loki napped on your bed for a while, but… he couldn’t resist, he was curious by nature. He walked by your desk and saw the mirror of had a bunch of photos of him stuck to the board, he wasn’t smiling in any of them, and most had been taken him by surprise. Loki would’ve thought it weird, but the two of you were dating. And you only did what was normal for someone in a relationship. He smiled softly at how purely infatuated you were.

“Loki!” you called for him, so you had returned. He went to find you.

You had smiled so brightly as you jumped to his arms and showered his face in loving smooches.

“I missed you!” you smiled between kisses.

“You just left an hour or so…” he chuckled.

“It’s still too much time away from you!” you snuggled with him. “I missed this pretty face.”

“Heh…” he chuckled.

“I bought us something.” You smiled and handed him a golden bracelet with a round item on the middle. You kept the silver one. “It’s a distance touch bracelet.”

You touched your bracelet, and he felt his buzzing. Oh. He knew this couldn’t have been cheap. And you still didn’t hesitate to get it for him.

“Now you can feel me close, even if I vanish, or if we can’t be with each other.” You giggled.

His heart fluttered. How could there be someone so overly sweet? To him, of all people.

“Thank you…” he smiled.

Days passed and Loki’s sanity was evaporating in thin air. Guilt was eating him alive.

You were in truly, madly, and hopelessly in love with him. You wanted nothing but the best for him and you always showered him with love, affection and the sweetest kisses he had ever tasted. And worst of it all, he was falling in love with you. He deserved no love from you, but he had it… And it filled his heart with a warmth he didn’t deserve. Oh, you poor lovely thing, if you only knew how cruel his intentions had been to start your relationship.

He did what you wanted now, trying to make up for it. He didn’t want you to feel like you did all the job in a relationship anymore. Soon the photos were more couple y, of kisses and hugs, Loki took photos of you more as well. He invited you to read and nap with him.

He tickled you lots, and making you giggle in his arms as he held you close. He hugged you tight, trying to squeeze in all the love he had develop for the kind soul that had been nothing but sweet to him. In a wordless pray for your forgiveness.

He did everything that occurred to him would make you happy.

“No way! You’re ticklish?!” you gasped with an ear-to-ear grin.

“Terribly so, I can’t stand being ticked in between my ribs” he smiled as he rested his chin on your head, with you sitting on his lap. “My magic acts up on its own if I get overwhelmed, like you.”

“Really?” you giggled and caressed his sides. “Can I try?”

“For a kiss…” he smiled and puckered his lips for a smooch, which you complied with a huge grin. “I adore you… Fine, you got one minute to tickle my ribs.”

“Just one minute?” you whined with that lovely smile of yours.

“Thirty seconds?” he smiled.

“Eh?!” you whined. “One minute!”

“See how convincing I am?” he grinned.

“Oh, you—” you said and turned around to start poking and prodding his ribs, Loki couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“Ack! Hehehehe!” he whined, you were too good at this, he was laughing his heart out. “S-Stohohohop! Hehehehe! I-It’s been a minute! Hahaha! S-Stop!”

“I’m not done with you, you pretty tease!” you giggled and kept prodding between his ribs.

“Oh yeheheah?!” he laughed and skittered his fingers along your belly.

You were squealing and giggling in the blink of an eye. But you didn’t stop tickling him.

“Hehehehe! Hic! G-Give up!” you giggled and squirmed as you prodded his sides.

“You give up! Hahahahaha!” he giggled squeezed your tummy and skittered his fingers along your armpits.

“Ack! Noohohohoho!” you whine and squeezed above his kneecaps, making him jump and ergo you fell off his lap and onto the couch.

“You’re in trouble…” he grinned and his fingers, poked, drilled, kneaded and scratch over every sensitive spot on your body, and it didn’t matter if you gave up. He didn’t stop until you were breathless.

Only then he stopped and held you in his arms.

“Remind me to not tickle you again, you’re sadistic” you smiled.

“You know it, darling…” he smiled and kissed the top of your head. “Did you have fun?”

“Mhm…” you smiled and leaned against him. “I love you.”

You were beyond ecstatic. You melted under all of his affection and more time he spent with you, the more he couldn’t deny his feelings for you.

He did it everything he could to make you happy. But nothing he did alleviated his guilt. He could only imagine the amount of heartache you would feel if you found out he had only used you to try looking better adjusted and be free, and that he had pretended to fall in love.

He couldn’t eat, he couldn’t sleep. He was going insane. He walked around the compound like a ghost during the night. He did a stop to throw up in the toilet.

“You’re awake,” you surprised him despite your gentle tone. “Is something bothering you?”

“N-No, love. I just wasn’t feeling very tired.” He assured you. “Don’t worry. Go back to sleep.”

You placed your hands on his hips and leaned closer to him the way you did whenever you were going to kiss him. But you took a little sniff—probably smelling his bad breath—you stopped and smiled at him with kindness.

“Mmm… Insomnia, hm?” you smiled and pulled him to the kitchen. “I know just the cure.”

You heated up water and prepared him a tea with honey. The warmth of the drink ran through him as the sweet drink got rid of the bad taste, and he sighed a tear streaming down his face.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, cupping his face.

“I’ve done so many awful things… And…” he spoke softly. “I don’t know how to fix them… I don’t deserve any forgiveness…”

“Oh Loki…” you hugged him. “No one blames you… you didn’t mean it… I’ve seen your pretty heart, and you deserve all the love in the world… Gosh, if I could take all the pain, you’re feeling for myself, I would.”

“Please don’t say that…” he begged. He couldn’t handle anymore guilt, but he didn’t know how to tell you the truth.

You gently guided him to your bedroom and tucked him in your bed, wrapping your arms around him in a protective way.

“Forgive me love... Please forgive me…” he begged between mutters. “I take it all back… please… Please don’t hate me… please…”

“Shh…” you whispered, running your fingers through his hair. “It’s all gonna be okay… I’m always gonna be here for you.”

               Between the warm tea, his exhaustion, the previous sleepless nights, your comfortable bed, and your loving touch… his body gave up on him and he fell asleep.

Everything was dark, and cold, covered in ice and a cruel wind. Loki had a good tolerance to cold, but he was freezing.

“Monster…” a voice echoed so loudly it made Loki’s ears ring. It was his own voice and it came from everywhere around him.

“Traitorous rat…”

“Murderer…”

“Beast…”

“Liar…”

“Frost giant…”

“Monster…”

“Manipulator…”

“Liar…”

“We finally had someone’s trust…”

“Of course, you just play around with others!”

Loki was completely surrounded by copies of himself, all at least twice his size, blue skin, Jotun attire, and eyes red like blood. True frost giants.

Loki simply took every blow and insult. He deserved them.

“Loki…?” a different voice called. “Is this what you meant by inviting someone to your dreams?”

No please… you couldn’t be here.

“Darling… wake up… please don’t be here…” Loki begged you. “Please…”

“I’m not leaving you here on your own…” you spoke and kneeled beside him.

Loki felt his body change, every muscle vanished leaving him as practically skin and bones. Small. Weak.

“Loki… what’s going on?! What’s happening to you?!”

Loki tried to shapeshift back to his natural look, but he had no control of his own body. At this point in life, he should be desensitized to nightmares where his magic didn’t obey him… but…

“Please… leave me here…” he spoke as he could, but he could barely hear himself.

“Don’t say that... What’s… what can I do for you?”

There was something about dreams, and especially Loki’s dreams, that always seemed to be extra dramatic. It must have been so confusing to be in one as an outsider.

Loki’s body changed again, he grew twice his usual size, and his body was blue and muscled. Exactly the body of a Jotun.

“STOP BEING SO GOOD TO ME! CAN’T YOU SEE I DON’T LOVE YOU?!”

“What?!”

What?! No! That wasn’t true…

Loki tried to take it back, but he was in autopilot. He was in the passenger seat of his own mind.

“I DON’T LOVE YOU! ARE YOU THAT GULLIBE TO THINK I’D FALL IN LOVE WITH A MORTAL?! I HAVE BEEN USING YOU!”

“No… no, you're not… You wouldn’t…”

“I JUST NEEDED A COVER, TO SEEM WELL ADJUSTED ENOUGH TO NOT BE A PRISONER! AND YOU WERE ANNOYING ENOUGH TO BARGE IN DEFENSE OF ME! I’V BEEN PLAYING WITH YOU FROM DAY ONE! DON’T YOU SEE YOU ARE JUST A TOY?! YOU’RE PATHETIC!”

The look on your face was heartbreaking. You looked crushed.

“I HAVE BEEN THINKING OF A WAY TO GET RID OF YOU! I CAN’T SLEEP AND I WANT TO THROW UP THINKING I HAVE TO PUT UP WITH YOU YET ANOTHER DAY!”

You curled up on the floor and Loki lifted you but your collar’s shirt.

“GET IT INSIDE YOUR HEAD! I COULD NEVER LOVE A MORTAL AS UNNERVING AS YOU!” Loki screamed at you before slamming you against the floor.

“NO!” Loki sat up with a gasp and his body drenched in sweat. He looked around and saw you curled up on the bed, your back facing him. “Love?! Thank goodness… I’m so— Love, w-what’s wrong…?”

You were stiff and you had a hand on the back of your head. Loki shifted and stretched a bit and saw your face. Your eyes were full of tears, yet he had never seen you with such a cold expression in your face.

“My love… and what’s wrong?” Loki placed a hand over your arm, and you slapped it.

“Why did you say that?” you asked him.

“I d-don’t know… I wasn’t… I didn’t…” Loki stuttered. “My dreams are like that…”

“No. I mean, what you said was really specific. Why…?”

“I don’t—I don’t know why I—”

“Tell me the truth, Loki.” You ordered him. “Did you, or did you not pretend to love me for your freedom?”

Loki stayed quiet. He didn’t have the courage to tell you the truth, but he didn’t have the heart to keep lying to you. With that confirmation tears started falling down your cheeks again.

“Y-Yes but I—that was before…”

“Get out…” you spoke.

“What? No, darling, listen… I…”

“I don’t want to hear you.”

“Please love… let me explain…” he tried holding you.

That made you snap. You started hitting him, being a human it was impossible for you to harm him, but not once in his life had he felt more pain.

“DON’T TOUCH ME! DON’T TALK TO ME!”

“Darling please…”

“I DON’T WANNA SEE YOU EVER AGAIN! GET OUT OF MY ROOM AND GET OUT OF MY LIFE!”

He had no strength to fight you, he was defenseless as you kicked him out of your room, slamming the door on his face.

There were a few faces popping out of their door to try seeing what had happened and that quickly retreated back to their rooms. Loki had no choice but to go inside of his own bedroom.

The next morning, he nearly tripped on his way out with a box by is door. It was full of books, quills, a coat, photos of you together. And… the silver bracelet that matched his own. It tore his heart to shreds. He didn’t feel as guilty anymore. But remorse and the memory of how brokenhearted you looked was even more sadistic. He heard you crying often from across the wall.

A few days later the others started giving him dirty looks. Knowing you and considering that this didn’t happen right away he assumed they had found out after heavy interrogation and now everyone knew he had used you. Even Thor seemed upset, not angry, but he had this… disappointment in his eyes.

“I hate dealing with moving companies” Tony sighed as they all sat for dinner. “But Fury wants to have our little Houdini enlisted by the end of the week. It’s a shame… The kiddos enjoyed being around each other.”

“Tell me about it” Clint sighed. “Kate is devastated.”

“Speaking of devastated…” Natasha said as she stood up, and Loki would’ve sworn she was shooting daggers at him with that glare. “See if I can be more convincing about eating something, otherwise Fury will have a corpse enlisting.”

You were moving out? To become a SHIELD agent? But you hated being a soldier. Had he hurt you so bad that you preferred that lifestyle and ruin your life forever… than being around him?

This all felt awfully familiar. Loki excused himself and went to his room and lock himself inside. He closed his eyes, and part of him wished that they’d never open again.

“Am I cursed?” Loki asked, choked up by the last bit of hope.

“No.” Odin responded the worst thing he could've said him. A curse would've been better.

Loki placed the casket down, weakly, it suddenly felt like a very... very heavy thing to carry. And the weight stayed there, right on his chest even after the casket had been placed back at the pedestal.

“Then what am I?” Loki asked softly, afraid of the answer.

“You're my son.” Odin answered, and Loki doubted his own magic since he couldn't detect dishonesty in his father's words.

Clearly that was a lie. So why didn’t his magic detect that? Loki felt rage spiral out of control like a boiling pot.

“What more than that?” Loki growled, still trying to keep his composure as he walked towards his father that was by the stairs at the other side of the corridor. “The Casket wasn't the only thing you took from Jotunheim that day, was it?”

Odin looked him in the eye. Unable to deny it any longer. It had been to many years with that secret. As Loki walked closer, Odin just started at him in silence as Loki reached the stairs.

“No.” Odin finally said. “In the aftermath of the battle, I went into the Temple, and I found a baby. Small for a giant's offspring— abandoned, suffering, left to die. Laufey's son.”

That felt like a dagger piercing the young prince’s heart. Out of all the things he was insecure about, it turned out he WAS an outsider. Out of all the things he could’ve been, he HAD to be a Jotun, a monster. Out of all the Jotun’s in existence, he was the son of the worst of them all. And out of all the reasons he could’ve been adopted for, was because even his own biological family didn’t want him… and his adopted family never told him any of this.

“Laufey's son...?” Loki finally managed to gasp out, he was choking up on his own tears. “Why? You were knee-deep in Jotun blood. Why would you take me?”

“You were an innocent child.” Odin said, sounding more exhausted by the second.

“No!” Loki begged his father, knowing that Odin was a strategic warrior. There was always a meaning behind his actions. “You took me for a purpose, what was it?”

But Odin didn’t answer. The physical toll of delaying his Odin sleep to prepare Thor to rule, preventing a war, the emotional toll of having to banish Thor and now… having his youngest child doubt his love for him because of his foolish decision of not telling him the truth earlier were overwhelming him.

The All-King saw with pain how the little child that once smiled at him with love when he picked him in his arms after the battle now saw him with fear, pain, and resentment.

“TELL ME!” Loki demanded loudly, no longer capable of remaining calm.

“I thought we could unite our kingdoms one day, bring about an alliance, bring about a permanent peace... through you.” Odin confessed.

That was the final blow to Loki’s poor heart.

“What…?”

A tool. All he had been adopted for was as an instrument of peace between Asgard and a race that everyone saw as blood-thirsty monsters.

“But those plans no longer matter.” Odin clarified.

“So, I am no more than another stolen relic, locked up… here, until you might have use of me.” Loki inquired in pain.

“Why do you twist my words?” Odin asked softly.

“You could have told me what I was from the beginning.” Loki urged, desperate to makes sense of what easily was the worst day of his life. “Why didn't you?!”

“You are my son. I wanted only to protect you from the truth.” Odin said softly, in a fruitless attempt to calm his poor child’s heart.

“Wh— B-Because I-I-I am the monster parents tell their children about at night?!” Loki asked, flooded by all the scary stories about the frost giants growing up. All those times he and Thor played heroes as kids fighting those monsters.

“Don't...” Odin begged as his strength slowly abandoned him.

But Loki couldn’t listen anymore. The grief was too great, and the feeling of betrayal didn’t allow him to trust Odin anymore.

“It all makes sense now! Why you favored Thor all these years.” Loki yelled as he started walking up the stairs to yell at Odin as the All-Father slowly lost his strength and started passing out on the stairs. “Because no matter how much you claim to “love” me, you could never have a Frost Giant sitting on the Throne of Asgard!”

Odin kept trying until his last second of consciousness to beg his son for help, forgiveness… anything. But he had been too weakened to dedicate his young boy some kind of love or reassurance as he fell prey to the Odin sleep, he had delaying for so long.

Now Loki encountered a similar dilemma. He had been stupid, dishonest, and selfish to someone who offered him nothing but unconditional love. He betrayed your trust and there was no way now that Loki could prove that despite his original intentions his love wasn’t any less real.

He laid down on his bed, with his arm draped dramatically over his eyes.

“Troubled, my son?” a voice spoke making Loki sit up.

“Father” Loki smiled softly. “I ruined it. I had the most beautiful love in my life… and I was stupid and lost it because of my own selfishness.”

“That sounds familiar” Odin chuckled. “You truly are my son, after all.”

“You had always been will always be my father…” Loki said the words he had denied for several years. “I never understand your reasons. Cruel as they were…”

“Not holding back against your old father, hm?” Odin laughed.

“Sorry…” Loki smiled softly.

“My original reasons were foolish, selfish, and even cruel as you rightfully… but I always hoped to do what would be best for the 9 Realms” he spoke. “But that didn’t mean the love I had for you wasn’t any less real. You are my son, regardless of the kind of blood that coursed through your veins.”

Loki smiled softly; it was weird. He knew Odin would have never say all that. But now, after growing up so much, he understood it wasn’t because he didn’t feel it, he had always been too proud and formal, too much of a king. And while imperfect, it was still his father.

“That’s why you never caught me lying when I called you my son or said that I loved you.” Odin spoke. “In my heart, you’ve always been my son.”

“I know, father” Loki smiled. “I’m sorry it took me so long to understand it.”

“I’m sorry I never told you before… I feared you wouldn’t take it well…”

“Me? I would never” Loki joked softly.

“We always loved you as our own” a female voice added making Loki turned around.

“Mother.” Loki spoke breathless. “I know… I know… I knew, I was just too scared I could’ve been wrong, and you didn’t…”

“You were too much of a charming kid not to love you” Frigga said compassionately. “Your little human surely thinks so too.”

Ah… that… Loki wasn’t so sure.

“I ruined it, I deserve nothing but the hatred and disgust I’ve earned from my darling.” Loki huffed out. “I manipulated, lied, and destroyed the trust of my love.”

“Dear, there’s nothing final in these matters…” Frigga smiled softly. “If that loved blossomed once, you may rescue it and nourish it again. But first… you need to apologize.”

“I don’t think I’m wanted anywhere near hearing range.” Loki explained.

“Do you think the love between your mother, and I always had a perfect relationship?” Odin smiled.

“Your father was too temperamental for that” Frigga intervened with a smile and both parents looked at each other with love. “But when you truly love someone and you make a mistake, you swallow your pride and make up for your wrongdoings.”

Loki smiled softly, he remembered it well. When Odin’s temper got the best of him because of the stress of being a king, Odin made sure to make up for Frigga know how truly sorry he was, and Frigga who already knew her husband’s temper was an expert on not letting her affect her, knowing it was never personal. She had truly been blessed with infinite patience given she dealt with three men with bad tempers and yet her kindness and loving nature knew no end. It was not rare to see Odin gifting Frigga fancy gifts and spend long hours apologizing and dedicating the day to her. It wasn’t the perfect arrangement, but no relationship was.

Loki chuckled softly.

“Thanks…” he smiled and both parents tended a hand to him with a smile. “I know what I have to do.”

Ready to say goodbye, Loki placed his hands on top of Odin and Frigga’s, and with that, the figure of his parents faded under a green light as Loki’s palms stopped glowing. Loki let out a little laugh as he wiped his tears.

His illusions had never been so benevolent towards himself, they were either torturous or for a fake sense of gloating and dissociation. But your compassion had changed him forever. He could use them for closure and to guide him with the stuff he knew but needed to hear. And… you deserved that at least.

He got up and went outside and went to a trip. It took him around an hour to get to the city and a couple more hours to get his several stops get several gifts. A lovely white bouquet of flowers, a box of your favorite chocolates, a necklace with a cute silver heart shaped locket and got it printed with a small photo, a copy of a photo he had carried from one of your first “dates” you got where you were giving him a small kiss in the cheek and cupped the other one, a symbol of your shared love.

On his way back, Loki held the original photo close to his chest and sighed. He prayed this would work as he was on his way to see you. He knocked on your door and hid his gifts behind himself, not even remembering he could’ve concealed them with his magic from how nervous he was.

His chest tightened as you opened the door, your eyes and nose were red, and your cheeks were stained with tears. Oh Norns… He had hurt you really bad.

“Love… Please… let me explain” Loki spoke softly.

“What do you need to explain, Loki?” you asked and sniffled, practically murdering him when you called him Loki instead of one of your lovely cheesy pet names. “That I was just a toy for you to play with and pretend that you loved me, so you’d be a free man? I got that quite clearly.”

You were ready to slam the door on his face, but he reached his leg to stop you. He nearly dropped one of your gifts. You looked at him confused, eying him up and down before sighing in defeat, opening the door he walked inside of your little room. He saw the little night table covered with used tissues and the bed’s decorative cushions were all over the place. It broke his heart.

“What do you want, Loki?” you asked tiredly as you sat on the bed, placing a cushion on your lap and against your chest.

“My darling, I was the biggest, most cruel and inconsiderate imbecile of all 9 Realms” he said, kneeling before you as he handed you the bouquet of flowers. You gently placed the flowers on your lap, still looking at him.

“It is true, that I was looking to just find a relationship to pretend I had adapted to living on earth” he spoke. “It was a selfish, shallow, and dishonest reason to make you mine… But I did it. It was heartless and there’s no excuse or reason for you to forgive that. But I beg of you to stay here… never speak to me again if you need, but don’t settle to a life of misery just to avoid me. I will happily accept being locked up in a dungeon for a hundred years, so you don’t see the likes of me again…”

He handed you the chocolate, and your gaze softened for a second as you saw the chocolate, he remembered which ones you liked the most. You opened your mouth to speak, but a gentle squeeze to your hands let you know Loki still wanted to speak.

He had caused all of this for not telling you the truth, and now he wanted to fully bare his soul to you now.

“You offered me boundless kindness, patience despite my flaws, understanding to my pain and sins of the past, laughter like I hadn’t enjoyed before, you fed with the most delicious and warm foods I had ever eaten, you showed me the concept of dates and you bared me completely vulnerable to your touch and heart and you bared yourself completely to me without fear of me…” Loki continued, as tears streamed down his face, drowning in regret. “And all I did was play with you and betray the trust your selfless heart gave me without asking for anything in return.”

He placed his forehead on your knees and sobbed, completely ashamed of what he had done to you. He didn’t deserve your forgiveness, but he felt like he’d die without you. And he’ deserve it.

“I don’t care” you finally spoke, and he looked up, he saw the tears streaming down your face. “You’re the God of Mischief and Lies, there are countless stories of how you lied and manipulated to get away with anything you wanted… I should’ve expected I’d be just that.”

“No— No, darling!” Loki held your hands and pressed his lips against your knuckles. “No, my sweet, you— I was selfish. I wanted a cover up, yes, but what I found was love, I found the butterflies in my stomach you always speak of. I found the warm of your hands lingering on my skin after our dates. I found myself awake during the night sighing over those lovely eyes I’ve now so cruelly filled with tears…” Loki spoke softly.

You were shaking in your place as you did your best not to cry and interrupt him. He brushed his finger along your cheek as in appreciation of your effort.

“None of what you heard that night was true in my heart…” he assured you “I never felt so disgusted I wanted to vomit; it was guilt that was killing me from the inside… knowing I was hurting such a beautiful flower.”

He handed you the heart locket and you opened it, seeing the photo made you sob as silently as you could.

“I was selfish and a liar. I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me and want nothing to do with me again. But please know that my heart beats for and because of you only.” He spoke. “I fell hopelessly and irredeemably in love with you. I swear that on my life.”

You looked at him and smiled, as you wrapped your arms around his neck and sobbed now freely and unrestrained. Time seemed to stop for Loki as he hugged you back, taking in your scent and caressing you. Tears fell down his face and he held you, afraid you’d disappear if he let go of you.

You forgave him. He didn’t think he’d ever be so lucky to find a kind soul that would forgive even his worst mistake. But he found it, you were kind enough to do so. Your wrapped your arms around him in a warm hug and Loki was able to let all the pain and guilt go… He couldn’t undo his mistakes, but he could be better, and he wanted to be his best self for you.

“Thank you… Norns, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” he repeated over and over between whispers and tears as he held you tight.

You sat up straight and cupped his face and laughed softly as you still cried happy tears.

“You’re gonna have to buy me a new box of tissues, you booger” you joked softly with a sniffle, and pressed your forehead to his and grabbed a tissue to blow your nose.

“I’ll give you the entire world if you so desire, my love” he spoke with a gentle smile. “Just say the word.”

“I don’t need the world” you smiled and kissed his cheek. “I have everything I need right here.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” he chuckled softly as he grabbed a tissue to wipe his tears and blow his nose. “I’m a disaster and somehow I still found the most precious little dove all for myself.”

You held him tightly in a hug… in silence for a few minutes before you spoke again.

“Did you think I was annoying when we first met?” you asked with a stern look on your face. “I want the truth.”

“Truthfully… you were a nightmare…” Loki admitted in a soft playful tone.

“HEY!” you whined and dug your fingers into the crevices of his ribs making him burst out laughing. “I said honest, not mean!”

“Ehehehe! Lohohohohove, let me finish!” he giggled, letting you have this, it was the least he could do. “P-Please, s-stohohohop that! Not there!”

You smiled and went to tickle his belly. Oh, you had really not liked that.

“Plehehehehehease, dahahaharling! I surrender!” he laughed and did his best to not squirm.

“Fine… what is it?” you asked, as you sat sideways on his lap, already happily cuddling with him.

Thank whatever superior force that was out there… Oh, you’re a wonderful blessing.

“You’re a nightmare turned into a dream” he clarified and he didn’t even bother fighting the urge to squeeze you tightly.

“You have 3 seconds to explain how that’s a compliment o I’ll tickle you until you puncture a lung.”

“Ihihi— I mean like, when you start having a bad dream… but it turns around as the most wonderful of dreams, those that you still think about after waking up.” Loki said, and as those words he was sure he had fried his brain because he didn’t make any sense.

But that was enough for you.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” You grumbled.

“C’mon… don’t be mad at me for being foolish and wrong” he smiled as he squeezed you tight. “Surely you thought I was insufferable at first as well, we’re so different after all.”

You smiled and shook your head.

“I love my pretty prince” you smiled and picked a tissue yourself to clean your face. “Flaws, differences, and all.”

“Do you, now?” he grinned cheekily. “I sure am a lucky one to be called yours.”

“A Loki one” you giggled, and Loki made a scowl of disgust. “Sorry! I thought it too late when I said it and— hehehe!”

“Oh, that was awful— C’mere… you!”

“W-What?! NO! NOHOHOHOHO! LOHOHOHOKI, STOP IHIHIHIT!”

As he made you laugh and held you against him, he couldn’t doubt how fortunate he was to be so undoubtedly yours.

| MASTERPOST |

#marvel tickles #marvel fluff #loki laufeyson #ticklish!loki #lee!loki #ler!loki #ticklish!reader #lee!reader #ler!reader #loki x reader #loki tickle #loki fluff #ducky writes tickles

[elred001]

(This may be uncomfortable for some people. Please be very careful and proceed with discretion. Hugs and kisses for everyone)

I really don't think you guys understand how obsessed I am with BuckTommy. A month ago I had no more than 100 9-1-1 bookmarks in ao3 and now I'm over 350, all the new ones being about them.

I'm autistic, I have ADHD, I'm asexual and coming to that realization was one of the most precious and liberating moments of my life. Lists are everything to me, they are the definers of my life. I have a hard time understanding social subtleties and metaphorical language, and my biggest drawback that autism brought me was my incompetence to regulate and understand emotions. Mine or others. So I had this huge list of what emotional attraction and/or interest is supposed to feel like, and how my body is supposed to react around those I'm attracted to or like or love, so it was such a mess and an absolute pain that every time someone touched me intimately it felt like ants were running across my skin and biting into my flesh. And I cried a lot about it, and I screamed and I had fits of anger that I didn't understand at all and my parents hugged me to calm me down but that only made it worse because, tact. Touch. Awful. I made myself do things I hated because I thought it was normal and I hated myself for feeling bad about it. Those were hard times.

A couple years ago I went on a sexualities research binge and went down an ADHD rabbit hole trying to learn everything I could because I was so tired of feeling that way, and that's when I found out.

Learning about asexuality felt like magic, it felt like freedom. It felt like crying after years of putting up with it all. It felt like relief. It all made sense and the world opened up to me, and I felt like I was meeting myself for the first time. It was beautiful.

Of course, then came the moments of panic because, how was I going to tell my mom that I am asexual? Or, am I even asexual or do I just want attention? And then the famous "so how do I know I love someone romantically if I don't really want anything physical with them?"

Where am I going with all this? Well, I'm obsessed with the way the series and Oliver have portrayed the realization. The idea that discovering something completely new, and it's actually not as new as you thought, brings more than just fear. Bring freedom. Bring understanding. Brings an "Oh" moment that feels down to your bones and penetrates your soul, and you can never come back from that moment because everything feels like you finally woke up and the whole world opened its arms to you.

And it's something sweet. It is something very delicate, soft, hopeful and so, so precious. And Buck, Evan, is experiencing it all for the first time with a man who is soft to him, sweet, considerate. He is learning about himself from someone kind, so he has the opportunity to have his "Oh" moment and feel freedom, because that freedom is being given to him by someone who knows what it's like to feel imprisoned. So nothing is rushed. So everything is calm and full of understanding. So Evan can feel emotions. And feel good throughout the entire process.

So yes, I am obsessed with them both and I love them and I want them so much that they last a long time and that Tommy stays.

#evan buckley #tommy kinard #ao3 #911 on abc #bucktommy #bi buck #tevan

[transpuppyprince]

.

#TW FOR DEPRESSIVE THOUGHTS DYSPHORIA SELF HARM ANXIETY #i’m doing. really bad right now. well not /really/ bad i guess #but really bad in comparison to how i’ve been doing for a while. #my dysphoria is out the roof and im feeling dysphoric about things that never bothered me before (like lack of facial hair) #but i know that if i take T without finasteride then my chances of hair loss are really fucking high based on both sides of my family #and i can’t handle that #but that means no facial hair for me. #and i got that feeling bc i saw a guy yesterday with curvy hips/ass and nicely shaped but he was still very masculine looking #bc he was strong and had a nice beard and “masc” tattoos #and then on top of dysphoria today my housemate came home a week earlier than what he told me so i wasn’t prepared to see another person #and i hate how uncomfortable i am being around other people but i just. am. #plus my job has cut my hours and i don’t even know if i’m gonna be able to afford bills and i have no savings bc i get paid crumbs #so now i’m worried i’m gonna have to get another job and i really don’t want one bc change terrifies me plus i’ll lose my health insurance #and everything feels out of my control and i’m just not okay and about half an hour ago i picked up my box cutter and got very #close to self harming for the first time in a couple of years and then had a breakdown (didn’t cut at least?) and now i’m here #just screaming into the void in an attempt to deal with it #anyways if you read this far i’m sorry. and also i love you /pl

[keeps-ache]

i don't know what it is but there are thoughts in my brain. more at 11- oh wait it's already 11.. uhh 12. maybe!

#just me hi #hello why am i talking about being wanting to able to sing through sneezes hfsjhbaj #i have not even thought about this for a full day but i wanna do it so bad man #what could it be practically applied to? uhhh the humor and lightened spirits of people around me #that's the best i got! the other is being slightly more annoying because it's still funny lmaoo #'but you hate sneezing' yes but also consider this #............................. #mmm it would be funny lol :> #/seriously though i think out of all the things human bodies do that i dislike/hate sneezing is in the top 5 #somewhere below The Oozing but above Placebo #i hate listening to people sneeze. like you know when you hear people breathing too much or chewing too loud? it's so bad man fhvshf #'breathing too much' okay yeah that's one of the sentences i've typed this year HFbvshf #and people scratching themselves. oh my sstarssshfvsfvbbggg #it's Not the same as sneezing or breathing it's just Deeply uncomfortable lol #like please . take your skin elsewhere... thank you <333 #and sneezing isn't even Nice !! #MAN. HICCUPS #i get hiccups so often it might be inhumane how often my body decides Okay. We're Feeling Antsy and just Goes to do it's thing #why are you even doing this dude ?? this is not helping our health as far as we know and also it doesn't even feel nice this Sucks fshvsh #but you know what. cheers to that i guess Lol #really why do hiccups feel so uncomfortable ? like my guy you are a Guest. sit down #anyway. apparently i have thoughts on sneezing .>. #//welp! back to baking cabbage water in my brain #it's turning out kind of nice! i thiiiink.. :> #when it turns brown i believe that means it's ripening. come back for more tips from keeps 👍

[widevibratobitch]

.

#im so tired of this lalalalalalalalaa #something is Wrong lol #i really need this therapy on wednesday but guess WHAT im not going. im going to a funeral instead 🤡 #and ill be singing in that stupid fucking church because have to but i dont fucking wanna i hate doing it and i hate churches #all i feel rn is the overwhelming urge to selfdestruct and like obv im not gonna kms now #but im so fucking angry that im not even *allowed* to do that anymore. like it was such a comfort all this time to know that i can just Quit #and now i cant because guess what someone has to take care of my mother 🫠 and im so fucking tired of being someone people depend on #to handle THEIR feelings and THEIR emotions and just take it all with humility and acceptance and kindness and never snap and bite back #like i dont WANNA hear about your dead husband i dont wanna hear about your stupid fucking boyfriend #i dont wanna hear about the new guy/girl who's hitting on you because you're so hot and perfect #i dont wanna be responsible for how people feel. i should just shut up and take it and be humble and never ask or expect anything back #but when is it MY turn to call at 1 am crying about how im tired and want to kms #or to start expecting shit of people and allow myself to get properly angry at them for not meeting those expectations #or to braggingly 'complain' about something the other person clearly lacks without any consideration for their feelings #or to just openly cry and say deeply personal shit without any filter not caring if that other person is clearly uncomfortable af #because *i* need it right now and i need someone to listen and let them worry about how to even respond to that stuff #im just so tired of people expecting shit of me im tired of being made responsible even tho i clearly cannot handle that responsibility #i wanna be mean i wanna snap and get angry and openly say that i dont give a shit and am tired and cant listen to this rn #but i cant because i have to be a motherfucking mother theresa and never dare to demand something for myself #and idk where that comes from. idk if it's coming from the fanatic catholicism of my childhood or my mother or just from myself and idc #i just feel so horrible and guilty and wrong for wanting anything for myself #and it once again feels like im making myself the victim and the tortured martyr here when i should just shut up and take it #i just wanna lie down and die and not care about who'll get angry or judge or blame me for it im tired and i dont know what to do #i want someone to take care of ME and reassure ME and make ME feel like i matter and that they really will help me if i ever need it #and that they'd be kinda sad if i were gone not because i had a role to fulfill that i failed at by killing myself but because i am a person #<- math calculations flying around my head as i come to the terrible realisation #of just why exactly im so deeply obsessed with my voice teacher (aside from her being literally the most beautiful woman alive lol) 🤡 #like babygirl stop being so utterly overwhelmingly kind to me my knees are weak i would do anything for you queen and I MEAN IT

[inkskinned]

what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.

#warm up #writeblr #this one has bothered me for a bit #any time a woman does something even passingly annoying we treat it like a fucking crime #hey man. women are allowed to be annoying. everyone forever is allowed to be passingly annoying #as long as they aren't hurting anyone/thing #like u wanna know something? i find it super annoying that men don't wear seatbelts #why arent there thousands of comments on driving videos thats just like : men try not to die in a car crash challenge #''this briefly annoyed me''. okay??????? AND????????????????? go get ur self a cookie and calm down about it #ur not entitled to control other ppl's experiences and emotions just so u can maintain ur own peace #if being briefly annoyed ruins ur whole day! you! need! therapy!!!! #men try not to become immediately angry about nothing challenge: level impossible #ps author is nonbinary. we didn't even get into the gender presentation thing #the fact men think it's SEXY that my voice is on the lower end....

[cock-holliday]

I’m trying not to be a huge dick about it but I got a “but what about us q-slurs who are traumatized by the bad words?” on my slur reclaimation post and so I’ve made a handy guide

1. You are being called the slur.

A. If it is with malice, I am sorry for this experience, however, this situation is not at all what I was talking about.

B. If it is with affection or as a joke from other LGBTs, and it makes you uncomfortable, ask them to stop. If they don’t, they’re a dick for not respecting your boundaries.

2. You are being “forced” to see other people use the word for a larger community

A. If it bothers you then you are probably not the “fag community” to which they are referring, then. In a post? Block. Blacklist words. Block tags. Walk away. Avert your eyes. You don’t vibe with “queer community” then refer to it as LGBT. You make it sound like a “someone saying Happy Holidays means I can’t say Merry Christmas anymore” situation. You don’t have to use any words you don’t vibe with. Hate to say Dyke March or Dykes on Bikes? Don’t go to the march. Avoid the bikes.

3. You are being “forced” to hear other people use the word for themselves

A. I mean this with love and respect…suck it up. If it is so deeply triggering, remove yourself. Leave the situation. Block. Blacklist words. Block tags.

In a conversation about reclaimation, I am sorry, but you only get to decide how people refer to you, no one else. If someone else’s use upsets you, YOU have to do something about it, not them. You do not, under ANY circumstances, get to ask someone not to use dyke or fag or queer or tranny for themselves. You don’t get to ask someone not to use it/its. You don’t get to tell someone to tuck or bind because it gives you second-hand dysphoria. You do not get to decide how someone else is queer.

If being around them is that debilitating, you need to take steps to insulate yourself.

On the curate your own experience website, you should know how to do just that. There are so many guides out there. And to the complaint that “now” Pride uses all these slurs which has made Pride hostile to you, I’d invite you to crack open a book, but perhaps what you find will be too upsetting

#LJsm

[mrfoox]

I've done it again (acted like an lovestruck fool infront of my friends)

#miranda talking shit #Im so embarrassed i hate myself i wish i didnt react this way im making people uncomfortable im making things hard #Had a looooong talk with Fabian #6... Hours? Its 3.30 am now jajfnxjskskdkcjkd #It wad great i talked way too much unfortunately but alas. And at the end ... I had previously mentioned that evening that i #Find it better or easier to see people so i can know how they react. I hate being seen but seeing others i like and it helps me understand #Them. So the last 30-40 min he all of a sudden turned on his cam and i couldnt deal. I cannot deal #A sudden change like that when its 3am? I cant be normal. So i was stuttering and giggling and just being unable #To talk. And he just ... Sat there and was chill. And when that happens i get worse bc i realize how much embarrassed i am so yes #And he just ... 'you became so giggly' YES SO DID YOU 'yeah true' #I hate this part of myself bc usually ... Its my ... My crush is around and ya know im embarrassed bc of that so i act weird #But now it was like... Im still embarrassed but its not the same but im acting the same basically and i... Youre gonna think about it too #I react so fucking strongly to everything and its weird like please! Anyone who saw or heard me would assume i have the worst crush on him #In reality i got an crush on another guy and i just got so embarrassed bc im tired and yeah... Doesnt help he is the calmest calm guy to #Ever calm. I know for a fact i react worse when i can see others arent bothered... Im scared... Fellas im scared ... I have fucked up #Hes going to be weirded out now ... I am screaming help #Its bad enough i have acted this way around people i genuinely have a crush on... At least i.. Mean if they can tell i mean i am at least #Honest. I understand people in my past who have bullied me in these situations it must be hilarious #Having a chick go from yeah ok we can talk and joke and be alright to... I-i-i-i ca-cannot ta...t-t-t-talk #I wish i could say i was faking it too. No I literally stop myself many times and try to start over but my voice just shakes and #My brain is like 'haha... Mushy mushy what do we say ' end me #Fabian #'vad fnissing du blev nu' JA DET BLEV DU MED 'jo det är sant'

[transmascissues]

12 weeks post-top surgery thoughts

most importantly, i’m absolutely fucking in love with how things look! it’s still not set in stone yet, my surgeon said i won’t really see the final result until up to a year after, but I’m so happy with it already.

my surgeon’s default timeline would’ve had me starting scar tape at 4 weeks, but i still haven’t started yet because some little scabs are still hanging around even though most of my scars are completely healed. my surgeon didn’t seem concerned about it taking longer than expected, she just said everyone’s body is different. given that i have a connective tissue disorder and skin that just hates being messed with at all, i’m not surprised that it’s been slow going and i’m just happy that the rest is healing so well. i just had another post-op today and was cleared to start using scar tape because the scabbing is so minimal at this point, so i can finally move on to the next stage of healing.

i can (mostly) lift my arms now! they still can’t quite go all the way up, but i have enough of my mobility back that the only things i really struggle with are super high shelves like the ones above my fridge, and things like the washer and dryer that i have to reach really far to get into. technically, i was supposed to wait six months before raising them because that’s what my surgeon usually recommends for aesthetic purposes, but i have to be able to raise them to do my job anyway so i’m not limiting myself beyond the natural limits of discomfort at this point.

my chest muscles are mostly back to normal too, but they’re still very sensitive. when i flex them, it doesn’t hurt or feel uncomfortable but i am a lot more aware of the feeling than i was before. they also still tire out more easily than they used to — i’m back at work now, and i’ve learned the hard way that i tend to favor one arm over the other for certain tasks because when i do any of them for too long, i start to feel it in that side of my chest. it’s not anything too bad, but i’m still making sure my shifts are spread out because i don’t want to risk overdoing it.

i’m getting used to touching my own chest, but being touched by other people still feels super weird and honestly uncomfortable at times, particularly when it’s my bare chest and not over my shirt. i’ve been touching it a lot to try to desensitize it since around week 3 or 4, and it seems to be working as far as my own touch, but other people is a whole other story — when my boyfriend is touching my bare chest and their hand touches the scars, it doesn’t actually hurt but i react to it like it does. i suspect it’s more of a mental thing than anything, that since i’m still instinctively protective of it and not quite used to how it feels, touches that i’m not in control of just automatically set off alarm bells. it’s also just a generally foreign feeling even without the weirdness of healing because my boyfriend never really touched my chest before surgery since i was dysphoric about it, so it seems to require desensitization on multiple levels. i’ve given them permission to keep touching it even when i flinch (unless i explicitly ask them to stop) because i want to make sure i start getting used to the feeling.

i’m also still very sensitive to pressure against my chest, especially the front of it. it’s getting easier to lie down on my side now but i’m still using my body pillow to take some pressure off of the scars under my armpits, because if i don’t i usually can only stay in that position for a little while. my boyfriend can mostly lay their head on my chest for short periods of time now, but the position matters because if the weight isn’t distributed evenly enough or if it’s on the wrong part of my chest, it hurts. that being said, less intense pressure on the front like a hug or holding something to my chest is pretty much fine, i’m just still more sensitive to it (as with everything). i’ve been able to lay face down on top of my boyfriend a couple times without discomfort too, but i’m still erring on the side of caution and not laying on my chest too much yet.

when i was around a month in and thought i would be starting scar care soon, i was really nervous about it — particularly about the scar massage — because of the state my chest was in. i still didn’t feel like i could press on it or move the skin around or pick it up with my fingers at all, and the scar tissue underneath was still really thick and firm. i assumed that all of that would stay the same until i did the massages to break down the scar tissue and loosen things up, but i can now confirm after another month and a half of doing nothing while things healed, my skin is naturally a lot more mobile and a lot of that really thick scar tissue has already broken down. obviously i’m still going to start massaging now because i want to give myself the best possible chance of healing well, but i wish i had known how much my chest would be able to bounce back on its own. in hindsight, i’m glad i ended up having to wait to start the massage instead of doing it back when my chest was much less healed, because i’m much more comfortable manipulating it now.

every once in a while, i’ll get sharp pains in my chest. they aren’t horribly painful, mostly just unpleasant. they feel a lot like the nerve zaps i was getting earlier in recovery so it might be another round of nerves reconnecting, but it also happens more often when i’m working so it’s hard to say if it’s nerves or over-exertion. either way, i always make sure to take it easy when i start to feel that, just in case it is a sign of me doing too much.

i typically almost never eat meat, but i chose to reintroduce it into my diet after surgery to get more protein, because i wanted to make sure my body had everything it needs to heal and protein is a huge part of that. now that i’m pretty much all healed skin-wise and just waiting for everything to settle, i’ve decided it’s time to go back to my usual diet of not-fully-vegetarian-but-pretty-damn-close. i’m sure the diet change wasn’t strictly necessary but i don’t regret doing it, though i am glad to be switching back now.

putting on shirts still hasn’t gotten old. seeing how they look over a flat chest honestly feels surreal, but in the best way. hugging people and being able to press all the way into it js also still such a great feeling. i’m far enough in now that i can do all of that stuff without worrying about it, but still early enough that it all feels really new and special, and i’ve been thoroughly enjoying that.

wearing a more genderfucky outfit out in public for the first time post-op was a fucking blast. my boyfriend and i went to a new year’s eve party, and getting to show off my chest through a sheer lace top and my facial hair alongside makeup was so much fun. it was the first time i’ve been able to go all out without the lingering feeling in the back of my mind that dressing up means inevitably being seen as a woman. i definitely didn’t look like a cis man to any of the people who saw me, but they could clearly tell i wasn’t a cis woman at the very least, and knowing that made me so much more confident.

i’m far enough away now from being in the trenches of early recovery that the reality of the fact that i got such a big surgery has started to fade. when i really think about the fact that my body went through all of that and about how hard early recovery was, it doesn’t quite feel real anymore. i’m starting to reach the point one of my friends told me about, where my chest being like this feels so normal that it’s just like “yeah, of course, it’s always been like this, right?” it’s wild, really, the difference a couple months can make — it wasn’t that long ago that i was exhausted and arguably depressed from the early recovery process, and now it all feels so normal that i have to remind myself it took all of that to get here. i never really doubted that it would be worth it in the end, but i’m still more sure of that now than i ever have been.

the last couple months have been a long road, but somehow they’ve also flown by. it’s given me so much appreciation for my body — its potential to transform and what it’s been able to withstand. i wouldn’t trade the experience for anything.

#top surgery adventures #top surgery results #top surgery recovery #top surgery #double incision #trans man #transmasc

[mypoisonedvine]

𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙯𝙫𝙤𝙪𝙨 | helmut zemo x reader

@radmerrmaid requested a drabble with zemo and enemies to lovers. what happened is a whole oneshot. don't ask me how.

word count: 4.3k

warnings: DUBCON SMUT, enemies to lovers/hate sex, rough sex including hair pulling, degradation and name calling, restraint, a slap, and overstimulation, touchstarved reader, unspecified age gap, very mild violence (hand-to-hand combat and a mention of a previous gunshot wound), kidnapping, soft!dark zemo?

"It must drive you crazy," he purred, wrapping his fingers carefully around the crystal glass before picking it up. "Seeing me like this."

He smirked around his sip of bourbon— at least you figured it was bourbon— as you tried to keep a poker face. You didn't like the idea of being seen as crazy at all, let alone because of him. "Like what?" you pressed instead of admitting to it.

"Free," he shrugged. "Out of that cage you worked so hard to keep me in."

"Getting you there was my job," you corrected with a frown. "If keeping you there was mine, too... you'd still be in it."

He laughed lightly, if briefly, and shook his head. "Still so prideful. You're young, and you have something to prove."

"I have nothing to prove to you," you asserted, shifting your weight on your hips— it was sort of uncomfortable to keep standing, but it felt wrong to take a seat even though he'd offered you one when you entered. It seemed like a sign of trust. Not that he should be surprised by you acting aloof, when he'd offered to meet you here without even explaining why.

"No, not to me," he agreed, setting the glass down again and taking one step closer to you. "To your friends at the CIA."

He seemed to emphasize every letter of the acronym, a playful condescension in his tone. "Friends is a funny way to say it," you rolled your eyes, "like I do what I do because I want to be popular, and not because I want to keep the world safe."

"Safe from me," he added, "the evil terrorist. Right?"

You ignored his question, not really wanting to dignify it with an answer— or start some spiel about how you don't really believe in evil people, just actions that merit punishment, bla bla bla...

"Yet, you couldn't keep yourself safe from me," he went on, raising one eyebrow as he examined you. "Or, you can't. Here you are— alone, as I asked."

Obviously, you had tried to imagine some way you could have back-up for this, even just tell someone where you were going. But this was Zemo's turf, and he had eyes and ears all over the city... he would know if you tried to turn this into a sting. Instead, you only hoped to gain some sort of information tonight that you could use to track him down when he tried to run again.

"You're more trusting than I suspected," he smirked, gaze darkening a bit. "Or, more desperate."

"Maybe the right word is 'curious'," you proposed. "Clearly, you have something to discuss with me."

"I do," he nodded. "A question to ask you-- one I feel only you can answer."

You waited for him to ask it, but even just the way he sucked in a sharp breath made you realize he was going to bore you with some preamble first— just like him, really..

"You see, after evading you so many times—"

"Narrowly," you interjected.

"Maybe some times," he shrugged, smiling, "other times, I think I had plenty of room. But that's besides the point... the point is, here I am. I've probably bested you for the last time—"

"That's not—"

"Ah ah, no interrupting, please," he scolded gently. "I know you know that if I can keep a low profile here, your organization has no hope of getting me back. I simply have too many resources, and your superiors know my risk is relatively low. No?"

Again, you refused to answer, but the way you crossed your arms tighter and glanced away seemed to serve as enough of an agreement.

"So that's it— I'm free. It should be so simple," he sighed. "So, why am I disappointed?"

You furrowed your brows, staring at him in confusion. You were waiting for him to say something to give context to that, but he didn't— he only waited for your response with an earnest look. "Why... are you asking me that?" you wondered.

"Because you're the person who knows me best."

You'd never thought of it like that, and it was such a jarring idea that you began to shake your head almost instantly. "No, that... that doesn't seem right..."

"I figured you would take pride in it," Zemo grinned. "You tracked me for years, studied me, learned my habits... I had to do the same to escape you. I must know you better than anyone else."

"That's ridiculous," you scoffed. "What are you trying to say?"

"I just hoped you could tell me why I feel this way— why I feel so wrong about never seeing you again."

Your chest tightened. You couldn't bear to meet his gaze; your stomach felt sick and strange and you just wanted to run out of there, but what good would that do? You needed him to tell you something you could use, one last chance to catch him before it was too late.

"If I didn't know you so well, and hate you so much," he went on, "I wouldn't have the energy to keep running. And me? I'm your biggest case. Sometimes you act like I'm your only case. What is it about me, that you need to win against me so badly?"

"It's not you," you insisted instantly, "it's me— it's who I am."

"Maybe that's how it started," he suggested, "but you can't spend so long hunting someone without becoming a little obsessed with them— trust me, I would know."

You grimaced at him. "You— you can't be serious."

"Who will you be without me to chase?" he pressed anyways, matching some of your anger as he stepped closer again— almost too close. "Without this... passion, between us?"

"Don't step any closer," you warned.

"Or what?" he challenged. "No weapons, no soldiers— it's just the two of us here."

He stepped up again, nearly pressed against you, and you couldn't let him get away with that... you had to prove you meant what you said. You weren't armed, and you knew he wasn't someone you wanted to go up against hand-to-hand... but at the same time, it was one thing you'd always secretly wished for. A chance to wage this war the way it should be, the way it had always been: personal.

You stepped back at the same time as you swung your fist, giving yourself just enough room to gain momentum— but you weren't quite fast enough, and he blocked you. From then on it was fast, instinctual: he was stronger but you were quicker, and on the offensive.

You never quite landed a hit, but neither did he— which felt like a good sign, until you realized he wasn't really giving it his all. Dodging and blocking, yes, but he wasn't trying to win, just keep you at bay.

"Come on!" you yelled in frustration as you finally got in a kick to his chest, forcing him to stumble back and nearly fall. "What are you doing, pitying me?"

"Hardly," he wheezed, a little affected by the hit, which made you smirk. "But I don't want to hurt you."

"Please," you rolled your eyes, putting your fists up and stabilizing your posture. "If we're going to do this, let's do it right."

He came at you, and finally, there it was... his real strength. That passion he'd been talking about, you could feel it.

Both of you were flushed and panting, exhilarated by the sport of it all. Unfortunately, right as you thought you'd found your moment— the weak spot in his form— it was a trap. When you moved in closer, he grabbed you and spun you around, holding your back against his chest so tight that you struggled to breathe.

But he didn't shove you down, didn't put you in a chokehold, didn't even threaten you or gloat about pinning you. Instead, he only held you tighter, and soothed you with a gentle 'shh' in your ear when you tried to squirm out of his grasp.

"Wh-what are you doing?" you whispered, your whole body shaking as he ran his tongue up your neck.

"If it's curiosity that brought you here," he purred in response, "I can satisfy that."

"You can't be fffucking serious," you hissed, though a moan tainted your words as one of his hands ran down your body, the other still effortlessly holding you still.

"I know you so well," he went on, a deep growl in his voice as your eyes fell shut. "I know how lonely you must be. That's one of the things we share."

His hand was heavy and warm against your leg, even through your pants— and it was moving higher, petting your inner thigh as you shivered.  Though your mind longed to resist him, your body was desperate for any affection; because he was right, you were lonely.  You couldn’t think of the last time someone had touched you like this, and yet you remembered it didn’t usually feel this good.  His touch was precise and careful and teasing— not too awkward but not too cocky.  And the heat of him wrapped around you, his hot breath on your shoulder, his wider form encompassing you… how could it feel so good?

“And I know you’ve thought about this,” he added.  “That’s something we share, too.”

He couldn’t know that— he might be rich and resourceful, but he wasn’t omniscient.  If you were any more logical in that moment, you would’ve realized he was just guessing and denied it.  But his teeth brushing over your pulse didn’t exactly provoke your critical thinking skills.  “Fuck, I— fuck,” you choked out instead, shuddering when he chuckled proudly.

“You might hate me, draga, but you need me,” he explained.  “Your mind needs me, just as much as your body does.”

Something about the way his fingers traced up your side, teasing your breast before pulling away right before getting to anything too exciting… it seemed to bring you back to reality, at least partially.  You absolutely couldn’t do this— you couldn’t let him do this.  “G-get off me,” you choked out, struggling against him again.

“That’s what you want?” he taunted.

“Get the fuck off me!” you yelped.

“Make me,” he challenged.

Bringing your foot down hard on top of his, he winced and you managed to break away, spinning around and shoving him back— he actually lost his balance that time, falling to the floor.  You were ready to deliver a firm and swift kick between his legs, but rolled over and grabbed your leg while it was up, bringing you down to the floor with him.

He laughed breathlessly, sounding a little frustrated, as you flailed for purchase against the floor— only for him to grab your wrists and pin you down, positioning himself over you with a grin.  His hair was shaken out of its style, hanging around his face which was flushed from exertion.  “You keep me on my toes, I’ll give you that,” he offered.  You tried to writhe again but he had you properly trapped now, with absolutely no way out.

“You wouldn’t,” you sneered incredulously.

“Wouldn’t what, dear?”

“You wouldn’t force yourself on me,” you completed.

He seemed a little surprised, hanging his head and shaking it.  “Oh,” he breathed, “no, I wouldn’t.”

A little relieved, you started to catch your breath.

“I don’t need to.”

He brought his lips down to yours suddenly— the collision was almost too rough, and yet it was the only thing that made sense for the two of you.  You groaned in protest yet submitted instantly, opening your mouth wide for his desperate and dominating kiss.

Your back arched up off the floor, and his weight seemed to sink down on top of you in response.  Though you hated yourself for it, you spread your legs a bit, just enough for him to rest his hips between— and fuck, you could feel it.  The hard, throbbing heat, you could feel it pressed against you and the most horrible moan was nearly lost to his lips.

He hummed back proudly, running his hands over your body, kissing you faster.

You were gasping for breath when he broke away, which only worsened when he latched onto your neck.  “God, I hate you,” you blurted out, just to remind you both that if this was going to happen, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“You hate me for all those times I embarrassed you?” he assumed, hands holding your waist and starting to slide up your shirt.  “For when I eluded you, wasted your time, made a fool of you?”

“And that time you shot me.”

“I winged you,” he corrected— like that was any better.

He tugged your shirt up and you raised your arms, letting him slip it off; he spotted the scar right away, a line across your arm just under your shoulder.  He cooed for a second before kissing it softly— too gentle a moment for you to let lie.  You shoved his jacket back next, helping him slip it off his shoulders before pulling him down to kiss you again.

Your sports bra had a clasp in the front, it was a bit unique in that way, yet he had no trouble with it.  Freeing your chest, he of course had to tease you a bit more— instead of groping your waiting breasts right away, he guided your arms down from where they held onto the back of his neck, lifting you up from the floor a bit so you could slide the garment off and toss it away.  

When you laid back down, the floor was cold, but the hiss you let out was more a response to him rocking his hips against you, teasing you through these stupid remaining clothes.  “You know why I hate you?” he returned as he started to unbutton your pants, even though you’d entirely forgotten that last part of the conversation.

Before he answered the question, he yanked your pants and underwear down to your thighs— and swiftly got his own out of the way.  Your heart raced; you weren’t totally convinced this was really happening, not until he pushed into you in one painfully sudden thrust.  You cried out, yet he took no mercy on you.  He was ruthless, in fact.

Choking on your broken cries, you arched up off the floor again as he hammered into you, rage and relief and desperation evident in every movement.  He had to hold your legs tightly just to keep you from sliding across the floor, which only ensured you took every stroke as deep as it could go— which was already too fucking deep.

“Say it,” he ordered, “tell me why I hate you.”

“I caught you,” you said— but you knew that would just make him angrier.  Maybe that was kind of the idea.

Stopping just long enough to tug your pants the rest of the way off— and leaving you naked while he was still mostly dressed— he descended over you and looked right at you, far too close, with a rageful stare.

“You trapped me,” he corrected gruffly.  “You played dirty.”

Before you had a chance to retort that all’s fair in love and war, he started to pound into you… harder and meaner than ever.  You didn’t surprise yourself by crying out, considering how intense and nearly painful the feeling was, but you were a little confused that the word you said was a needy yes!

"Those years in prison," he snarled, "you could barely call it living, life in that place— you put me there. I thought every day about how you put me there."

He yanked your hair, making you whine loudly and exposing your neck for his lips and teeth to explore freely.  

Finally, a hand latched onto your chest— a hot palm encompassing your breast and skilled fingers pinching lightly at your nipple.  You couldn’t believe how composed he was through all this— in many ways, he wasn’t, but he seemed to be deliberate with every way he touched you and that was far more togetherness than you had.

You weren’t together at all, actually… something about the heat of the moment, the way your body responded to him, the way he glared at you… you could already feel tension building inside you.  It wouldn’t be long, not if he kept going like this.

“I thought about you every fucking day, draga— that you were free, and I was trapped in that cell,” he growled.  “You missed it, didn’t you?  Chasing me.”

When you didn’t answer, he struck you across the face with the back of his hand; the shock of it made your walls clench on him, or at least you could blame it on that, but you had no way to explain the way you moaned a moment later.

He moved even faster, a sickening wet sound echoing through the room which you hated to acknowledge was your own body.  “The worse I am to you, the wetter you get,” he noticed, smiling for just a moment.  “What a filthy whore you are.”

“F-fuck you,” you stammered roughly.

“Actually, why don’t you?” he offered, grabbing you by the hips and rolling both of you over until he was on his back and you were straddling him.  “Show me how bad you need it.”

As much as you wanted to not do what he told you, your hips were already moving— your body was on its own mission now, desperate for pleasure and friction and heat.  Desperate for anything he would give.  You whimpered as you grinded down on him, feeling his cock go so much deeper than you imagined was possible.  “God,” you sobbed, tossing your head back and trying not to picture the way he must have been looking at you then.

His hands moved all over you, up your thighs and over your breasts, even wrapping around your neck once though they didn’t put on enough pressure to really choke you.  “Pretty girl,” he praised darkly, making chills dance over your skin.

But when his hands settled on your hips, trying to guide you the way he wanted, you’d had enough; you grabbed him at the wrists and leaned forward, pinning his hands beside his head.  He smirked up at you at first, but when you bounced your hips up and down while hovering over him, his eyes fell shut and he let out a deep groan.  “I’m close,” you panted sharply.

“You can make yourself come like this?” he realized, sounding a little impressed.  He opened his eyes and lifted his head for a moment to get a better look at you, before almost instantly giving up again and dropping his head back to the floor with a moan.  “Fine, take it— just take what you need, draga.”

You held tighter to his wrists, mostly to keep yourself stable, and you felt his own hands ball into fists as you bounced faster.  “Oh god, oh god, oh god— yes!” you yelped, legs quivering as it struck you.  It seemed to come and go so quickly, perhaps because your strength gave out halfway through and you felt weak and paralyzed.  It had been ages since you’d felt pleasure like that… actually you weren’t sure you’d ever felt pleasure like that, at least not so much all at once.

If only he were satisfied by that.  With your grip weakened, he easily pulled his hands away to wrap his arms around you, holding you tightly and bucking his hips up into you rapidly.

“Fuck, wait, s-slow down,” you panted, whining weakly as he shook his head against the crook of your neck.

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to,” he purred.  “I won’t be able to slow down at all until you’re full of come, draga.  I want you dripping.”

You were all numb and limp now, so raw and sensitive inside— he put you on your back again and didn’t struggle at all to pull another orgasm from you.  The third, though, was a little more hard fought: he rubbed your clit with an almost painful amount of pressure, watching through dark eyes and with a sneering grin as you screamed and shivered.

“Not too loud, darling,” he warned, “the people in the streets might hear you, the window’s still open—”

“Fuck!” you shouted, high-pitched and shaky, and he covered your mouth with his other hand as he laid on you with a growl.

“Just one more, then I’ll fill you,” he promised.  “I only need to feel you come one more time.  You want a rest, don’t you?”

You nodded weakly, biting down on your shaking lip.

“Then give me what I want.”

Your final cry was stuttered and helpless, every final ounce of energy in your body being taken from you by the final forced peak of ecstasy.  But it wasn’t until you sighed out his name, barely audible under your breath, that he groaned against your neck and pumped himself deep inside you— every drop, leaving you full to the brim and then some.  

You didn’t even have the strength to hold onto him, but he held you far too tightly as if to make up for it, and didn’t let you go for quite some time.

It had only gotten darker and colder out, and the draft through the window eventually danced over your sweat-slickened skin.  When you shivered under him, Helmut lazily reached up to the couch nearby, pulling a throw blanket off of it and wrapping you both up in its soft embrace.  You sighed with relief from both the cold air and the hard floor, not even realizing you were falling asleep. 

Even when you woke up, you didn’t really notice that you’d been asleep— except that Helmut was gone, and the fireplace was going.  Sitting up as little as you could get away with to look for him— since moving at all was quite a task given how tired you were— you heard him coming around the corner and turned back to look at him.

He was in a robe now, and carrying two crystal glasses of water.  He smiled at you as he sat back down on the floor, laying beside you on the blanket and handing you your glass.  “Figured you would need this soon enough,” he explained with a soft voice as you sipped carefully at the water.  You weren’t really ready to talk to him yet, but you wanted to thank him for the water, so you just nodded and hoped that would get the point across.

The silence was probably only awkward for you— he seemed totally at peace, getting through most of his drink before setting it down on the floor and cuddling up to you again with a contented sigh.

You quietly drank the water, staring forward at the crackling fire, hardly believing where you were.  It actually sounded sort of romantic on paper: a dashing and wealthy older man, a penthouse apartment in a foreign city, a fire, a blanket, a crystal glass…

If it weren’t for the wanted terrorist, it might make for a good little fantasy.

Yet, you set your glass aside and laid back down with him.  He slipped an arm around you, holding your shoulder and petting it with his thumb, even kissing the side of your forehead sweetly.  “I don’t understand how you can… be like that,” you whispered, glancing down at his arm crossed over your chest.

“Not everyone is so afraid of their feelings as you are,” he countered, and you snorted a little.

“I’m not afraid of my feelings,” you denied half-heartedly.

“You’re afraid of me, then?” he wondered.

“Not… quite…” you murmured your answer, not even sure yourself what you felt.  “I mean, I drank the water, so—”

“I wondered if you would,” he laughed, “but I’m glad you did.”

“I mean, only half the glass, technically,” you noticed.

“Oh, don’t worry, you’ve had enough,” he shrugged.

“Enough?” you chuckled.  “After that, half a glass of water is hardly enough.  I won’t be recovered until I have a protein-heavy meal and probably a couple painkillers— if I wanna, you know, sit or jog or whatever in the next few days.”

“I suppose I’ll take that as a compliment,” he chuckled, “but I didn’t mean enough to recuperate.  I meant enough for you to sleep until we get there.”

“...what?” you asked, turning over your shoulder with knitted brows to look at him.

“If even you know where you’re going, you might find a way to get out is all,” he explained flippantly.

“What… what are you…?” you started, shaking your head— but it didn’t shake off that funny feeling, that heaviness in your head.

“You see, I did think about you every day in my cell,” he went on, “and I thought about how, someday, I would lock you away— so you’d know how it feels, to be a prisoner.”

Whimpering as realization dawned, you sat up quickly to try to fight whatever was in that water… but it only seemed to make it worse, spots forming in your vision like when you stand up too fast— except they didn’t fade, just multiplied.

“I’ll treat you much better than I was, though,” he assured, “in fact, I think you’ll be better off than you were before… you’ll be mine, draga.  No one else will ever see you again.”

You tried to speak but it wasn’t really coming together— you tried to push him away but you only limply held onto him, looking up at his eerily blank expression with your fading vision.  As it all turned to black, he caught your head before it hit the floor, cradling it rather tenderly before kissing your cheek.

“Now,” he whispered to you, though you couldn’t possibly hear it, “let’s get you cleaned up— the plane is waiting to take you to our new home.”

#baron zemo x reader #baron zemo smut #dark!zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo smut #daniel bruhl smut #dark!zemo smut #helmut zemo dark fic #baron zemo dark fic #WELP. oops.

[decolonize-the-left]

(to preface this, i am white. figured i should make that known off the bat) i wanted to come bounce an idea off of you that i've been rolling around in my head for a bit. i have this pet theory that, for the population ill call here "white progressive queers who know very little about poc and racism", a large underpinning of this group's interaction with poc is a Fear of Fucking Up and more generally, moral purity thought. they (maybe even "we"- im still hopefully learning myself) get so paralyzed by this idea and line of thinking that goes something like this: "1) since i know nothing about poc & racism, then 2) clearly in discussions about these topics, i will fuck up and say something wrong or perhaps even Bigoted, which if i did 3) makes me an Irreparable Ontologically Evil Racist, hence 4) i should just be quiet and never ask questions/speak on these topics" which then results in said White Progressive Queer and those around them never learning. i wanted to know what you think abt this and tell me if im on the mark or not

also thank u for the work u do on this blog, ive found so many helpful resources through you

You're right. In my experience that's exactly how it is.

I want to add tho: yes they're uncomfortable that they might fuck up and be considered racists sure, but a huge part of that stems from the massive inability to place the discomfort where it belongs. Which is with their own guilt.

Instead they blame the conversations for making them uncomfortable.

And let's take some worthy notes here: this is not how white people feel all the time. Because white people are not uncomfortable making these fuck ups in front of other white people.

So it's not that the conversation is uncomfortable. They are made uncomfortable. And they are made uncomfortable because even when discussing anti-racism they step into the role of oppressor (the little fuck ups or accidentally bigoted comments) so naturally and God forbid other (not white) people can See how easy it is.

My advice for white people that are like this (that nobody asked for) is

Your fuckups do not define you but how you react to them does

Listen, respect, learn

That's it. That's the whole list. Say something bad? Apologize, but don't over-explain yourself. Ask how to fix it. Google how you fucked up so you understand why it wasn't okay. Google again to get idea of how your fuck up hurts people. Google some more to make sure you don't do it again. Go to some safe space and ask some clarifying questions. Listen, respect, learn.

Maybe the people you fucked up with don't forgive you and that's okay, they don't have to. But YOU won't ever make anyone feel bad or less than in the same way ever again and that's what matters.

Having one less person making racist comments matters even if it's a struggle for that person to get to that point.

I need y'all to understand that none of you are gonna just wake up being suddenly perfect anti-racist allies. And we will literally never ever have allies like that if y'all refuse to even sit with your own discomfort.

•°•°•

This weird morality issue white people have over looking racist is also just such a non-problem. Like if y'all want a PoC perspective: white people are already being racist ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ ....we Already see y'all as racists. And also I'm gonna experience racism anyway so I'd rather it be because someone was just being ignorant on the path to anti-racism.

Y'all are so worried about how shit Looks that you can't be bothered how really things are? Like you're so afraid of looking racist you'd allow yourselves to continue being actually ignorant and casually racist. And to avoid what? Being uncomfortable for a minute? Being called-out? A mean comment?

We are trying to stop hate crimes and genocide. Like that's what we are dealing with okay. Accountability for your actions is an acquired taste but I think y'all can handle some discomfort considering.

#every time im confronted with the idea that white feelings are why BIPOC are being killed daily i get umhinged tbh #like i might die if i call the cops cuz YOUD feel bad if you talked about racism? AND YOURE JUST KEEP NOT DOING IT?? WHY #asked #answered #sorry #some asks just like #do this to me #white people like this make me wanna shake them back and forth viscerally #whiteness

[waitimcomingtoo]

Meatballs! At the Unspecified Celebratory Event

Pairing: Tom Holland x ex!reader

Synopsis: you and Tom see each other at a family event for the first time since your breakup

Masterlist

“Thanks so much for having me. It’s good to see you again.”

“Of course. You know you’re always welcome. Now go grab some meatballs. I made them myself.” Sam said and squeezed your arm. You smiled in return before going over to the food table.

You put a few meatballs into your plate and mingled in the crowd with friends of the family that you hadn’t seen in a while. You heard someone being greeted by several people as they came in and looked up out of curiosity. Thats when you and Tom made eye contact. You quickly looked away and turned your body while you prayed that he hadn’t seen you. He had, of course, and was immediately making his way over to you.

“Hey.” Tom said when he finally got to you.

“Your mom told me to come.” You said at the same time. You then both apologized at the same time for cutting the other off.

“Oh. Sorry. You first.” Tom said and gestured to you.

“Sorry. Your mom told me to come.” You quickly explained. “I told her it would be too weird now that we’re broken up and everything but she insisted. Plus, I wanted to support Sam.”

“It’s okay. I’m really glad you’re here. I’m happy to see you.” Tom said sincerely. You smiled awkwardly and looked around the crowd to avoid eye contact. Tom looked around the crowd as well and briefly wondered that the purpose of the gathering was. The awkward silence went on for so long that it became palpable and you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Look, Tom, I really never would’ve shown up like this if I knew you were gonna be here. I’d hate to make things awkward. But Harry told me it was safe to come. I thought you were filming in LA?” You asked and felt yourself cringing over how much you were over explaining your presence.

“I am. I have the weekend off so I came to support Sam.” Tom answered and felt disappointed now that he knew you hadn’t come just to see him.

“Oh. That’s nice. I love LA. It’s so…hot.” You faked another smile and looked away. Tom felt the conversation falling flat but was desperate to keep talking to you.

“So, uh, you still keep in touch with mum?” He asked you.

“Yeah, yeah. Not that much, though. She checks in on me and I do the same.”

“That’s nice. And I’m guessing you still talk to Harry since he told you I was filming?” He asked and looked over at Harry who had conveniently never mentioned that he was still in contact with you.

“Oh, yeah. Him too.” You laughed nervously. “We were good friends so, yeah. He and I still talk.”

“And you came to support Sam. Who must’ve sent you an invite. To your new place. Since you moved out.” Tom realized with a tight smile.

“He actually didn’t send it to my new place. He gave me an invite the last time I was over his place, so…” You trailed off when you realized your attempt to make him feel better was probably just making things worse.

“Which was…” Tom asked.

“Oh, a couple weeks ago. He had me and Paddy over to try some new recipe. It wasn’t anything serious.” You explained and tried to make it sound as uneventful as possible.

“I see. So you’re still talking to the whole family. Everyone but me.” He said with a tight smile. You could see the sadness in his eyes now that he had learned this information and wished you hadn’t said anything.

“Yeah. Sorry. It felt wrong to just cut ties completely. It’s not like I broke up with them.” You laughed awkwardly.

“Right. Just me.” He returned the laugh and sounded just as awkward. An uncomfortable silence fell between you for a long time now that you had run out of things to say. You made brief eye contact with him and quickly looked away as you scanned the party for something to talk about.

“I haven’t talked to your dad since the breakup, if that helps.” You said finally.

“It helps a little.” Tom shrugged.

“Oh, good, it does?”

“Not really.” He admitted. “Nothing does.”

“Yeah. Me either.” You shrugged and took a long sip of your drink. Tom’s eyebrows went up in surprise to hear that you were struggling just as much.

“Really?” He asked quietly. You looked into his eyes and debated telling him just how much you missed him. You ultimately decided against it since it wasn’t the time or place to have that conversation.

“The food was really good, wasn’t it? I loved the meatballs.” You asked to change the subject. You had no idea how to make small talk with someone you used to have a life with.

“Yeah. So good. Sam’s great.” Tom nodded in agreement even though he hadn’t tried any food yet.

“So great.” You echoed. You both hated the faking niceties with each other but you had no idea how else to interact now that you were broken up. Thankfully, Harry walked up to the two of you with a plate of food and relieved some of the tension.

“Hey.” He said to you before realizing Tom was there too. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t realize you guys were talking. Should I leave?”

“No!” You and Tom said in unison. Harry leaving meant you’d have to scramble to find more things to say so you were desperate to keep him there. Harry gave you both a strange look over how enthusiastically you said no before taking a bite of one of his meatballs.

“It’s fine. What did you need?” You asked him.

“That guy I told you about is here. He wants to meet you.” Harry said and pointed over his shoulder. Tom followed his finger and saw a 6 foot tall blonde guy covered in those little minimalistic tattoos. The very tattoos you once told Tom you loved on other people.

“Oh, great.” You smiled and waved to the guy. Tom looked between you and the guy several times and felt jealousy bubble up inside him.

“Who’s that guy?” He asked through a forced laugh so he didn’t sound as worried as he felt.

“That’s Garrett. He’s one of my photographs buddies.” Harry explained.

“I’ll go say hi.” You told Harry before going over to the guy. Tom watched you hug him hello and clenched his jaw.

“Woah, mate. Whats going on with you? If you stare any harder, that vein in your neck is gonna explode.” Harry said to him.

“Who is that guy?” Tom whispered harshly.

“I told you. He’s a friend from film school. I hooked him up with Y/n.”

“Hooked up?” Tom almost shouted. “What do you mean hooked up?”

“Oh my God. Down boy.” Harry snorted. “I mean I hooked them up to work on a project together. She wants him to shoot something for her.”

“If she needs pictures then why can’t you do it?”

“Because shes like my sister so I don’t want to see her in her underwear.” Harry said like it was obvious. Tom’s stomach dropped and he looked back over at you and Garrett. You were laughing at something he had said and Tom’s jealousy doubled.

“Underwear? What are you talking about?” Tom asked.

“I don’t know. She wants to do some album art in this vintage lingerie she found and he specializes in the style she was going for. I wasn’t really listening when she was explaining because I was too focused on the meatballs.” Harry shrugged and took another bite of his food. Tom snatched Harry plate and put it down on the nearest table.

“Stop eating the meatballs for one second. Are you telling me you asked that guy to take pictures of her in her underwear?” Tom whispered angrily.

“Yes, Tom. I approached my friend and asked him to take photos of my brothers ex girlfriend in her underwear specifically for my own enjoyment.” Harry said sarcastically. Tom gave him an annoyed look so Harry stopped being sarcastic.

“No. She needed a photographer, he needed a job, so I hooked them up. Thats the end of the very simple and very boring story of why Y/n is talking to that guy.”

“Stop saying hooked them up. You’re making it sound like they’re gonna date. Does he even know about me?” Tom asked as he stared daggers over at you and Garrett.

“He’s seen Spies in Disguise.” Harry shrugged.

“Oh my God.” Tom groaned. “I don’t mean my films. Does he know I’m her boyfriend?”

“You mean ex boyfriend?” Harry said out of the corner of his mouth. Tom gave him a look and Harry quickly shoved another meatball into his mouth.

“Fine. Ex. Does he know we used to date?”

“Relax, mate. I’m your brother. I’m not gonna throw your girl into the arms of another man. We’re all rooting for you guys to get back together.”

“Okay, good.” Tom sighed in relief.

“But sometimes, in order to realize who your soulmate is, you have to sleep with a beefy photographer who has tattoos straight off a Pinterest board.”

“WHAT?” Tom shouted this time, causing a few people to look over at them.

“Oh my God. It was a joke.” Harry groaned. “Chill out. How are you still this uptight when there are delicious meatballs around?”

“Enough with the meatballs.” Tom hissed. “You don’t really think she’s gonna sleep with him, do you?”

“Hm. Probably not.” Harry shrugged as he looked over at you and Garrett.

“Good.” Tom sighed.

“But my boy is a dawg so he’s definitely gonna try.” Harry snorted and ate another meatball. Tom looked at him with an unamused expression and Harry stopped chewing.

“Sorry.” He mumbled. “Wrong crowd.”

“It doesn’t matter if he tries. She’d never go for a guy like that. He’s all wrong for her. Right?” Tom asked nervously.

“Mate, don’t do this here. We’re here to support Sam. This is not the time or place to fight for your girls honor.” Harry pointed out. Tom reluctantly nodded in agreement and turned to watch you again. Garrett had his hand on your shoulder now as he told you some story.

“Nope. I can’t watch this. I need to talk to her.” Tom decided and crossed the room to get to you. You and Garrett were laughing at something so Tom started laughing too until you noticed he was there.

“Oh, Garrett, this is Tom.” You said to bring Tom into the conversation.

“Hey, man. I loved you in Spies in Disguise.” Garrett said as he shook his hands. Tom felt slightly annoyed that he couldn’t hate this guy since he was nice.

“Thanks.” Tom said quietly. An awkward silence fell between the three of you and all laughter ceased.

“It’s a great movie. Underrated as hell.” You added after an awkward beat of silence.

“Thank you, darling.” Tom said sincerely. “So what were you guys talking about?”

“We were talking about maybe working together for a shoot.” Garrett answered.

“Right. Harry was telling me about it. I wanted to tell you that you can come over and grab some of your sets if you need them for the shoot. You left a lot at my place.” Tom said to you. You narrowed your eyes at him but couldn’t help but smile. You knew exactly what he was doing and he knew it too. He smiled innocently at you before checking for Garrett’s reaction.

“His place? Why would your stuff be there?” Garett wondered.

“Of course it’s at my place. Where else would she be wearing lingerie?” Tom asked with a simple shrug. You turned your face so he wouldn’t see you laughing at what he said.

“Wait, so, how do you guys know each other?” Garrett asked you.

“Oh, I’m sorry. She must not have mentioned. I know her from being her boyfriend.” Tom said and put an arm around you.

“Ex boyfriend.” You smiled sarcastically and pushed his arm off.

“Semantics.” Tom shrugged.

“Ex?” Garett raised his eyebrows. “Wow. Thats great news. I didn’t think a girl as pretty as you was available.”

“Oh, I’m not.” You laughed awkwardly.

“You’re not?” Garett frowned.

“You’re not?” Tom smiled in surprise.

“I mean, I am, but not for you two. Excuse me.” You smiled at them both and quickly exited the conversation. Tom and Garrett looked at each other with a new sense of competition between them.

“Spies in Disguise wasn’t even that good.” Garett mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.

“Tell that to my Kids Choice Award.” Tom snapped.

“I will.” Garrett said mockingly. They exchanged sharp looks with one another before Tom walked away. He searched the room for you but couldn’t find you for a while. He asked around to see if anyone had seen you but had no luck. He sighed and went outside the restaurant to get some air. Coincidentally, you had the same idea. You were leaning against the wall of the restaurant with a drink in your hand and staring out into the night.

“Hey.” Tom said as he approached you.

“Jesus Christ.” You jumped.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. But I have been looking for you. Do you think we could talk?”

“About what?” You played dumb and took a long sip of your drink. Tom kicked some gravel on the ground and kept his eyes down.

“Us.”

“Is it really a good time? My blood is like 70% red sauce right now.” You groaned and patted your full stomach.

“When else? You don’t return any of my calls.” Tom said without looking in your eyes. You could hear how upset he was over that you felt bad for ignoring him for so long.

“Because we broke up. People who break up aren’t supposed to talk.” You said gently.

“But we weren’t supposed to break up.“ he insisted and looked up at you.

“How can you say that when you’re the one who broke up with me?”

“It was a mistake. I just blurted that out during the fight. I was frustrated from the terrible day I had so I took it out on you. I never meant to say I wanted to break up.”

“But you did.“ You reminded him. “I don’t care how frustrated you were. I never would’ve said that to you.”

“I know.” He sighed. “And believe me, I’ve wished I could take it back from the second it left my lips.”

“Then why’d you say it?” You asked quietly.

“I don’t know.” He answered honestly. “It just fell out of my mouth.”

“Because you don’t have any lips to stop it?” You asked with a coy smile. Tom looked at you in surprise and could tell you felt proud of that one.

“That kinda sounded like you forgiving me.” He smiled cheekily.

“Maybe I’m just trying to get back into a family that can produce meatballs like this.” You shrugged and avoided eye contact. You could feel Tom staring at you so you kept your eyes out on the London skyline.

“Why’d you come tonight?” He asked after a beat of silence.

“I told you. Your mom invited me. And I wanted to support Sam.”

“Support Sam doing what, though?” Tom genuinely wondered. “What is party even for? Sam just told me I had to come. I don’t even know what we’re celebrating.”

“I honestly don’t know either.” You admitted. “Your mom just told me Sam was having a party and making meatballs. I’ve been trying to figure out if it was a birthday or graduation from the decorations but they’re too vague. I’m just avoiding Sam so he doesn’t figure out that I don’t know what this event is for.”

“Maybe it’s just a meatball party.” Tom shrugged.

“Maybe.” You laughed softly and finally looked at him. When you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him anymore. Whatever had started the fight was long gone from your memory. You didn’t care anymore. You just wanted to get back to how you used to be.

“I knew you were gonna be here today.” You confessed. “That’s why I showed up.”

“Really?” Tom asked and took a step closer to you.

“Really. I just didn’t want to have this conversation over the phone. That’s why I haven’t been answering your calls.”

“And what conversation might that be?” Tom asked and got even closer.

“The ‘I really miss you even though you’re a massive dingus who doesn’t deserve me’ conversation.” You said with a sheepish smile. Tom smiled in return and moved some hair off your face.

“I am a massive dingus.” He agreed. “And I don’t deserve you.”

“I already established that.”

“But what was that? Did I catch you saying you miss me?” He asked playfully and cupped his ear. You rolled your eyes and stepped into his arms to hug him.

“Of course I do. All the photographers I’ve been sleeping with made me miss what we had.” You said against his chest.

“I’ve missed you too, darling.” He sighed happily. “Wait, what that now?”

“I’m kidding. Kind of. Can we make up now?” You asked and pulled out of the hug just enough to look at him. Instead of replying, he leaned down to kiss you for the first time in weeks. It felt like you were picking right back up where you left off as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“That was a joke right?” He laughed once you pulled out of the kiss. Your eyes darted to the side as you pulled out of the embrace.

“We should go inside.”You changed the subject. “I just have to get some more of those meatballs.”

Tag list 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

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#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #Tom holland x ex!reader #tom holland angst #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfic #tom holland

[apollos-olives]

hello! If this question is too personal, please feel free to ignore. I’m writing an informative essay on the Palestinian experience under occupation (college English final) and I just wanted to ask this.

As children in Palestine (or outside of Palestine, but born to Palestinian parents), are you raised with the knowledge of the hatred and disdain of the Israelis towards the Palestinians or would you say that Palestinian parents “shelter” (for lack of a better word that I can think of) or attempt to “shelter” their children from the pain of the Israeli’s hatred? I would assume that protecting the emotions and minds of the children would be somewhat impossible to do, but I would appreciate if you could provide some insight into this and also how children deal with the mental toll of being under occupation or knowing that their people are not free. My apologies if this is question is insensitive, please feel free to ignore and delete this if you feel uncomfortable. Thank you!

we, as palestinians, are raised with the complete knowledge that zionists hate us. there is no "hiding" that fact. when you live under an occupation, you know it. you feel the effects of it. you see it every day. one of the very first things i've been raised to learn is that i am a person who majority of the world hates. and you genuinely cannot hide that. even though we were, and are, children, we have to face the truth immediately. we are an oppressed people. our parents do not hide this from us. it would be cruel if they did. we deserve to know that there is a better life for us than this, and we deserve to know what is happening against us. you cannot hide the effects of oppression and occupation. we will learn about it whether someone tells us or not.

because of this, palestinians raise their children to be extremely educated. palestinians are some of the most highly educated people in the world. we become educated when we're young and continue to become more and more educated as we grow because that is what we believe will set us free. the newer generations must have knowledge to fight back. the children are the future, as we all know. the sooner we are educated, the sooner we can start fighting back against oppression. that is why we urge other people to become educated, so they can help us fight against oppression as well. oppression cannot be hidden from us. we must learn to notice it wherever we go, in order to end it. that is why palestinians do not hide away their children. of course, we love our children and we try to ease the pain for them as much as possible, but the pain is our real life. our suffering is part of our fight, our identity. and we are fighting for a day where our suffering will never have to be permanent part of our identity again. we want to protect our children, but we cannot protect them against a world that wants them dead. we cannot do it alone, so we need people to step up and stand with us, in order to raise our children without them having to know the suffering we've endured.

being a child living under the occupation is difficult. you make friends one year, you lose them the next year. you finally manage to get out of palestine, and suddenly you're never allowed to go back in. you see posters on the wall of every city, full of faces of the people who were martyred by the hands of the oppressors and you pray to god that your face isn't going to be on there next. you are constantly surrounded by death and suffering. palestine is beautiful. our culture is beautiful. we constantly try to appreciate our beauty. but we cannot just do that without also facing the reality. we are an oppressed people. we know this. we see this. we feel this.

being a child living in the diaspora is also difficult. seeing how everyone around you can go on with their day, all smiles and laughs, not knowing your family in palestine were just killed the other day. seeing the media twist the narrative and make up lies about you and your people. being wary of everyone around you because you're not sure if they're a zionist or not so you have to hide your identity and who you are. watching as your people are massacred on tv while you're sitting there in your living room from a continent away, shaking with fear because "what if that was me?"

we know zionists hate us. this is the first thing we learn. we cannot hide our children from this truth, because that would only harm them more than it would protect them.

#palestine #free palestine

[genderkoolaid]

the reason a lot of transmascs experience some level of regret/depression after medical transitioning is, imo, the exact reverse of the reason TERFs think we transition in the first place.

TERF beliefs are generally that transmascs dysphoria is actually a natural uncomfortableness with how misogynistic society defines women, and that our transition is an attempt to conform to the idea that being nonfeminine means you aren't a "real" woman, instead of realizing that we only hate ourselves because society tells us women like us shouldn't exist, and actually radical feminism is the real liberation.

but for example: when i first starting on T, every change was 100% pure joy. i was so ecstatic, everything was amazing and wonderful. i truly loved everything.

but then the longer I was on it, the more transandrophobia I encountered because I was on T. I started feeling more and more ashamed of having hair on my arms, my thin facial hair, my "tranny voice". Things that made me really excited before starting making me a little bit uncomfortable because of how society treated it. It was literally like Rapid Onset Gender Dysphoria but exactly the opposite.

Now this wasn't and isn't as strong as the gender euphoria T has brought me, and it hasn't caused me a lot of real "oh no do I regret this" distress because I have been able to immediately recognize that I am only uncomfortable because of how people started treating me differently. But especially for transmascs without support systems, without understanding our own internalized transphobia, can very easily feel a lot of trauma associated with transitioning because of the way that society treats trans men. when every change of your body is met with mockery and scorn and disgust, its natural to get affected.

and this is why its so fucked up when other trans people share stuff about how "soo many trans men are gonna regret T because they're all stupid little girls who think T is gonna make them sexy yaoi boys, since they all have no idea what it's like to really be men and just fetishize gayness!" because you are literally the reason. People mock and shame trans men, they make spaces hostile for anyone with a testosterone-dominant body, they act hostile to trans men and our experiences constantly. and then when trans men internalize that disgust and blame ourselves for how other people treat us because of our transition, those same people turn around and use that as a way to further mock us.

#m. #transandrophobia #top 10 posts Tumblr queue almost winked out of existence

[starb3rrys]

I just saw Sleeping Together Hcs and AHGZICZGFI, so I'd like to request a part 2 with Jouno and anyone else you like to add if you want to. Bc the first is SOOO CUTEEEE >.<

Hello!! Ah- I am so happy to hear you found my "When Night Falls" Hc's cute. I would be delighted to write your request, hope you enjoy!!

✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮

When Night Falls ✩Part 2✩

Ft. Jouno, Dazai, Fyodor || Part One

✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮

Jouno

Sleeping with Jouno is honestly pretty complex.

Considering Jouno's senses are heightened, I do believe he gets sensory overload when he sleeps with someone else or something he doesn't recognize.

Things like your hair touching his chest, your quiet snoring, the heat radiating off your body can make him feel overwhelmed.

Taking that into consideration, Jouno isn't much of a cuddly person.

He doesn't want to make it seem as if he doesn't love you or like having you around.

Hence why rather than a full cuddle, he just places his arm or leg on or around you.

Its like a way to reassure you he's here and wants to be near you while not being overwhelmed by the feeling yk?

He is honestly a pretty peaceful sleeper, although sadly- he is a very light sleeper.

Meaning any sound, or movement makes him either wake up or alert. (Your light snoring kept him up the first time y'all slept together, but now its like a white noise, weirdly comforting to him now).

Good luck trying to sneak out of bed in the middle of the night.

"Where are you going?"

"Uh- The bathroom?"

"Hm...alright, try not to pee so loud--It keeps me up."

"HOW CAN I CONTROL THAT?!"

Dazai

Sleeping with Dazai is comfortable.

Despite what people may think of Dazai, he isn't overly clingy.

Sure, there are nights when he just wants to be smothered in love and affection but it's usually once every blue moon.

He respects the fact you both need space and hates the feeling of being overwhelmed in a situation that is supposed to be comfy and delicate.

Between you two, its much less cuddling and more of just holding each other.

Lose hands rest on your body as quiet snores fill the room, you both lay in bed enjoying each others presence. (Nothing too tight or restricting).

Dazai tends to always be the one holding rather than being held.

He likes being able to let go or scoot away if the heat gets too overwhelming or adjust if he feels uncomfortable in his current sleeping position.

Dazai is a pretty heavy sleeper, you could really sneak out of bed at night and he would just continue snoring.

In addition, he tends to move around quite a bit; rolling over, scooting away, shifting around- etc.

"Sorry, its getting a bit hot let me just...there we go."

"Dazai- this is the fourth time you've moved."

"OKAY! I promise this is the last time."

"..."

"I have to pee-."

Fyodor

Sleeping with Fyodor was honestly a whole process.

Firstly, you had to practically beg and attempt to convince him to even consider sleeping in the same bed with you at least for one night. (He's such a bitch. I love him.)

Listen- He may love you, but it will take a while to actually get him to be vulnerable around you, especially being unconscious around you.

Once you get past the 4 month long process, we get to the actual good stuff.

The first night you two slept together, Fyodor stayed on his side of the bed, not really moving nor cuddling you--just kinda there. (It was really awkward)

But over time--after realizing that you really mean no harm and just want to sleep next to him--he will actually start to relax and allow himself to be vulnerable.

Fyodor is a very light sleeper as well as a quiet sleeper, rarely ever shifts around.

Once he chooses a sleeping position for the night, he sticks to it.

Fyodor is an occasional cuddler, to be more precise, he only cuddles when he needs to warm up.

Warmth is a big thing for Fyodor, considering he is Anemic, cuddles and warm covers help him alleviate and rest better.

Your warmth helps keep his cold body heated which he appreciates greatly and sees as an advantage.

Although, if the heat from your body and the covers becomes too much, he will quickly move away from you and sleep on his side of the bed.

The next morning, make sure he gets up SLOWLY! or he will fall over and crack his neck.

"So, how did you sleep last night?"

"It was...quite pleasant, although your warmth mixed with the covers warmth got me a bit overheated."

"Is that why you nearly kicked me out of bed?-"

✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮

These Head-cannons are so cute, I love being able to write things like these!! Honestly, I was searching up cuddling positions just for the funnies :) I asked my friend for help since I had huge writers block- (ILY) Anyways, Love ya! <3

#bsd jouno #jouno x reader #bsd dazai #dazai x reader #bsd fyodor #fyodor x reader #bsd x reader #bsd fanfic #bsd #anime